


I Got the Fever (and its burning me alive slowly from the inside)

by chiarascura



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Indiana Jones Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Regency, Anal Sex, Dream Sex, Inquisitor Carver Hawke, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Panty Kink, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-05-23 04:01:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 23,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6104188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiarascura/pseuds/chiarascura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some ficlets from Tumblr about Felix/Carver</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of course I'm freaking out! You're my friend!

"Of course I'm freaking out! You're my friend!"

 

Carver woke slowly, breaths deep and slow. His body was warm and loose, more content than he could remember being since before coming to Skyhold, lacking the bitter ache he had grown used to. He floated for a while, muzzily enjoying the peace and calm, until the warmth at his side moved and he realized someone was curled into his chest. Someone was in his bed.

His eyes flew open to look down at the body spooned up against his. Large hands, dark skin, close-cropped hair… _Oh Maker, no._ The memories of the night before flooded his mind. He was suddenly back in the Herald’s Rest, buying drinks for the Chargers and the Wardens, and Felix’s open smile was more than he could resist. Carver relived Felix writhing beneath him, pressing kisses into his smooth skin, the way Felix’s voice broke calling his name.

Carver tore himself from the bed, jostling Felix awake, and Carver felt a pang of regret at waking him so rudely. The regret was quickly overcome by panic. His feet moved without thought across the floor, until he was pacing at a brisk clip as his hands pulled at his own hair. “Oh Maker, no, how could I?”

He deliberately did not look at the bed, at _Felix in his bed,_ until he heard the voice. “Carver, what’s wrong? Why are you freaking out?” Carver stopped to look at him and the panic crawled from his chest into his throat.

He just looked so _right_ , sitting there completely naked only partly covered by a sheet. Carver could see dark bruises along the side of his neck, and the muscle memory of leaving those bruises sent a jolt of warmth through him.

“Of course I’m freaking out! You’re my friend! You’ve seen what happens to my friends! I can’t—” His throat closed up, he choked on his words and his memories. He had seen too many people die for him. Bethany crushed by the ogre, all his friends slaughtered at Ostagar, his mother dead at the hands of a blood mage, all the Inquisition soldiers killed by Red Templars, Marian running back into the Fade… The grief swelled in his chest and he stumbled onto the balcony, away from Felix, blinking away tears.

He leaned hard onto the balustrade, letting his head fall between his shoulders in defeat. This wasn’t what he wanted. He never asked to be the Inquisitor, he never wanted to make these huge decisions. Somehow, he still ended up there, stuck between a rock and a hard place, watching everyone he loved slip through his fingers.

Carver heard Felix’s footsteps behind him, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn around. “Everyone I love _dies_. I can’t… I can’t let that happen to you.” Carver exhaled on a sob.

Felix’s warm hand brushed his back. “Carver…” He began rubbing warm circles into Carver’s shoulder blades, and Carver felt some of the tension dissipating from his strained muscles.

Carver’s voice fell to a whisper. “I’m sorry, Felix. I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to you. I can’t risk it.” He finally looked up and met Felix’s steady gaze. “I’m the Inquisitor, everyone around me is in danger.” He clenched his left hand into a fist, feeling the phantom pain of the anchor, silently cursing the blighted mark.

“Carver,” Felix said. His voice was patient and kind, and more gentle than Carver wanted to hear right now. “Nothing’s going to happen to me. I beat the Blight once, didn’t I?” His smile was genuine and the hand on his back reassuring. “Look, if you don’t want to be with me…” Felix looked away and Carver felt his stomach drop out. That was the opposite of what he wanted. But, it was safer that way. Wasn’t it?

Carver’s hand shot out to grab Felix’s as it pulled away. “No, that’s not… That’s not what I meant.” Carver sighed. He had never been good with words. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt. And I know if we get… involved… something bad will happen. It always does.”

Felix squeezed his hand. “It doesn’t have to be that way. I can take care of myself.” He slid closer, until Carver could feel the heat from his body, and he realized they were standing outside _naked_ in the early-morning chill.

Carver snorted. “Right, That’s why we had to drag you to the Wardens as you withered away. I’ve seen you take care of yourself, Alexius.”

The lines around Felix’s eyes crinkled with his smile, and Carver was lost. Carver’s free hand lifted to touch Felix’s cheek, and his thumb brushed the corner of his mouth. “I can’t lose you, Fee.”

Felix’s eyes closed and he leaned into the caress. “You don’t have to.”

Carver closed his eyes and touched their foreheads together, leaning into Felix’s embrace. “I’m going to hold you to that.” He pressed their lips together and it felt _right_. Carver could only pray this didn’t fuck up like everything else.


	2. Why are you running away?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> because Cinderella!Carver is a thing now

“Why are you running away?” Felix’s voice struck a pang in his heart. Carver felt a moment of regret, but he kept moving. Technically he wasn’t running, just sprinting. The crowd was so thick in the ballroom that running would have been impossible. So: swerving and sprinting towards the door.    
  
The clock chimed again, and Carver cursed himself at having lost count of the number of chimes. He didn’t know how much time he had left but he knew it wouldn’t be long. The crowd thinned as he reached the stairs leading to the front doors.   
  
The ball had been beautiful, more than he had expected from one of these fancy Orlesian parties. Hundreds of ladies and gentlemen dressed in their finery, each trying to outdo the last with their outrageous costumes and frivolous decorations. Carver usually rolled his eyes and made snarky comments to his brother under his breath about them, but considering that he was currently dressed like these ponces would have made those comments fall flat.  
  
He had been banned from attending any kind of social gathering like this for months now. Serving for Ser Alrik was a nightmare, and the other recruits working under him were nasty and brutal. Carver got into too many fights defending smaller recruits from the other Templars’ unpleasant games. Normally, he wouldn’t care about not attending stupid parties like this, but after he was explicitly banned for defending Recruit Paxley, Carver wanted to rebel just a bit.   
  
When Bethany had come to him earlier that evening, he tried to stop her. Ser Alrik and the others left him behind to attend this party, and Carver didn’t even want to go if it meant spending more time with them. His sister convinced him by producing a costume instead of his regular Templar armor and a handsome mask of black and gold. Carver hardly recognized himself when he checked the looking glass.  
  
He didn’t ask too many questions about how Bethany smuggled him out of the Circle, knowing the answers he would receive would not be pleasant ones. So, he had gone.   
  
Carver did know that a Magister sponsored the ball in order to find a bride for the young Prince, but Carver didn’t particularly care. At least, not until he had arrived and saw the Prince.  
  
Prince Felix of Minrathous wore no mask and eschewed the familiar Orlesian fashion, opting for a black robe that made the bronze in his skin stand out. Carver wondered if it was a Tevinter thing. From the moment their eyes met, Carver felt a swooping in his belly and knew this was a terrible mistake. When the Prince singled him out and asked him to dance, this familiar bubbling of anxiety in his belly usually told him when a prank was going a bit too wrong, yet he couldn’t stop himself from accepting. He felt lighter than air the whole night, having Felix’s attention solely centered on _him_ , lowly Templar Recruit Carver, and Carver wondered more than once if he was just dreaming.  
  
Tearing himself away from Felix was painful. The confusion he heard in Felix’s voice made it worse. He knew he had to make it back to the Circle by 12:30, and that didn’t give him much time to run back, change, and be in his quarters by that shift change. Being locked out was not an option, especially when he knew Ser Alrik would double his punishment after fighting last week. He just wished it could wait a little bit longer, keep the magic of the evening for a few more minutes…  
  
He stopped suddenly at the bottom of the stairs and turned around. Felix ran up behind him, coming to an abrupt halt just shy of crashing into him and knocking them both to the ground. “Carver, why are you running? What’s going on?”   
  
“I’m so sorry, Felix,” Carver whispered. He grabbed Felix’s face and pressed their lips together. There was no time to make it a good kiss, but somehow even just the simple feeling of their mouths against each other sent electricity through Carver’s entire body. He was burning up and wished with every fiber of his being for this moment to never end.   
  
The shouting from the ballroom behind Felix brought him back to his senses. Carver let go, took one last look at Felix’s face to memorize it for the rest of his lonely days, and sprinted out through the open doors into the garden beyond.  
  
He wouldn’t realize until a few days later that the Amell crest, the one he used to get into the exclusive ball, had fallen from his pocket at Felix’s feet.


	3. Why do you keep ignoring your family?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> exact prompt: "Why do you keep ignoring your family?" (Just fuck me up with Fever and Hawke Family Feels just do it)
> 
> ask and ye shall receive angst
> 
> trigger warning: death (minor character, off-screen)

“Why do you keep ignoring your family?”  
  
Carver stared at the phone in his hand, the screen still lit up from the missed call. He couldn’t even look at the voicemail list anymore, it was so full. He pressed the phone to his forehead and sighed. He thought about just turning the damn thing off for the next week. Bethany would never let him get away with that, and he knew the retribution would be worse.  
  
Felix’s warm hand started rubbing in circles on his back. They were curled up on the couch: Carver with elbows on knees and his head in his hands, Felix with his legs pulled up underneath him and leaning into Carver’s bulk. Carver rifled his fingers through his hair, pulling just enough for the edge of pain to register.  
  
“Carver.” Felix’s voice was gentle. “Your sister has called you three times in the past hour. What’s going on in your head?”  
  
“They don’t… they don’t really need me. Marian has it under control.” When he had been at the house the day before, he felt out of place, unnecessary and in the way. Bethany was dealing with their mother and Marian was taking care of the logistical details. Carver was just… there. “She’s probably just making sure I have a suit.”  
  
Felix’s silence beside him was deafening. The familiar lump grew in his throat, and he pressed one hand against the bridge of his nose to stave off the burning behind his eyes. A sob escaped, and the dam broke. Felix’s hand tugged on his other shoulder, bringing Carver’s head down to rest on Felix’s chest. They adjusted to stretch out on the couch, Felix on his back and Carver curled up against him. “I just don’t want to deal with them. Too much sympathy from strangers, all the crying everywhere. I don’t… I can’t do it.” Too many people crowded his mother’s house yesterday, some of whom he knew, most of whom he didn’t. Marian’s friends were all there trying to talk to him, like they cared, like they knew how he felt. Like they—  
  
The tears leaked out despite himself, but Felix’s warm touch helped keep him grounded. “Marian is being Golden Child, dealing with the practical stuff. Mom will only talk to Bethany. I can tell she doesn’t want to see me.” Carver swallowed. How many times had Leandra complimented him on his beard, said it made him look just like his father? Had them stand together and pretend she couldn’t tell them apart, teased him about being an upgraded model of Malcolm 2.0. (Acting like she knew what 2.0 meant.) His father had laughed, had been so proud of his son. The memory brought a fresh wave through his chest.  
  
“Carver,” Felix said. “Your mother still loves you, she just… needs a bit of time, I think. But if Marian’s calling you, maybe she has a reason.”  
  
Carver shook his head where it rested in the crook of Felix’s shoulder. “You know her, probably just wants to make sure I’m not late tomorrow. She doesn’t really want to talk to me.” His sigh was wet, ragged. “I’ll be there.”  
  
“What about Bethany? She’s called too.” From the tone of Felix’s voice, Carver assumed she texted him to make sure Carver— (the words _wasn’t dead_ were automatic but far too fresh for even his inner voice to think.)  
  
“How am I supposed to talk to her? I can’t act like nothing’s wrong, like she’s trying to, being all peaceful and zen and shit. It’s not, it’s not true! Dad’s gone and everything is shit but Bethany is just… fucking moving on! How am I supposed to…” Carver could feel his breath speed up, the wave of panic and fear swelling in his chest, tightening his lungs like all the air was slowly disappearing and—  
  
“Carver, love, please,” Felix tried, using his hands to sweep across Carver’s tightening muscles, to run through his hair. “Breathe with me. Just, for a minute.” Carver nodded and listened, matching his own rhythm to match Felix’s. In, one-two-three-four, hold, out, one-two-three-four-five.  
  
It helped. After a few minutes, Carver felt calmer. Even if the ache in his heart stayed, it was duller, maybe eventually it would be manageable. That’s all he could hope for, he guessed.  
  
“How about in an hour, we both call Marian and see what she needs?” After a moment of silence, Felix tried again, voice quieter this time. “When my mother died, I was too young to really understand. I kept going to her room, thinking she’d come out and scoop me up and everything would be right again. I didn’t… I didn’t have siblings to talk to. Dorian was there but, it’s not exactly the same, is it.  
  
“I’m not going to force you to talk to them, but maybe they’re not holding it together as well as you think. Maybe they need you to be there. Not to organize the funeral, not to take care of your mother, not to bring another casserole to your house because Maker knows there’s enough food there to feed half of Ferelden. Just to be present.”  
  
Carver breathed in, one-two-three-four, held, exhaled, one-two-three-four-five. “Okay. Maybe in a little bit.”  
  
Felix kissed the top of his head and squeezed where his arms wrapped around Carver. “There’s no rush, love.”


	4. is everything all right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> college AU prompt for FeVer (of course!) “you always show up to our 8:30 immaculately dressed and your handwriting is so neat and you always have your shit together and today you look like you’ve been crying and you’re wearing a ratty old shirt and you’re not taking notes or participating at all and we’ve never talked but is everything all right” AU

“Hey, are…. Are you okay?” His words were tentative and Carver’s fingers tightened around his empty coffee cup.  
  
The guy looked up at him through bleary eyes, and it took a second for them to focus on Carver. He assumed it was partly the bright lighting in the ceiling and the way the guy had to crane his neck up, up, up, to meet his eyes.   
  
“Of course. I’m fine,” the guy croaked. Carver wanted to snort at his words, but kept it in. It was so painfully obvious that the man was stressed out about something. His eyes were glassy and red-rimmed and unfocused for the entire lecture, which. Carver understood what that was like, having been hungover here on multiple occasions, but this guy never seemed to have trouble focusing.  
  
From the first time Carver saw him in class, the guy dressed in crisp button down shirts and pressed khakis, with round tortoiseshell glasses that made him look like a hot hipster TA. He was always there before Carver, mostly because Carver was perpetually three minutes late to every class, but he struck Carver as the kind of person to be early to everything. Carver sat one row behind the guy and watched him take perfect notes, somehow keeping up with the entirely too excited instructor, perfectly printed with neat little letters and even margins. Compared to his own notes, which looked like a dragon chewed them up and spit them out, it was like the guy was on another level. At 8:30am three days a week, no less.   
  
Today was different, and Carver probably wouldn’t have approached the guy if he hadn’t noticed that something was definitely off. “Come on, mate. You always show up to our 8:30 immaculately dressed and your handwriting is so neat and you always have your shit together and today you look like you’ve been crying and you’re wearing a ratty old shirt and you’re not taking notes or participating at all and we’ve never talked but is everything all right?” His jaw snapped shut with a click as he realized he was rambling.   
  
The guy just looked up at him, now slack-jawed instead of shut down, and Carver figured it was probably better. “I… didn’t expect anyone to notice.”  
  
That broke Carver’s heart a little bit. “Well, I did. It’s a whole different class without you answering every question Dagna asks. It makes the rest of us look bad.” Felix’s mouth twitched and Carver internally rejoiced. “Do you want to go get a coffee or something?”  
  
The guy looked at him for a moment, weighing his options. Carver realized how creepy this all may have sounded. He had never spoken to the guy before and now he was all up in his space. “Look, I’m not hitting on you or anything, you just look like you need to talk it out, and since you didn’t talk in class, and it was super weird, I just thought maybe you’d want to talk? Or something?” Carver wished he could smack himself in the forehead and make himself _shut up._  
  
“You’re not?”  
  
Carver looked at him blankly. “Not what?”  
  
“Not hitting on me?” Despite the paleness of his face and the general air of unhappiness, Carver got the feeling the guy was sassing him.  
  
“Not unless you asked for it first.” Carver smirked roguishly at him. That’s what he aimed for anyway, how Bethany and Isabela’s romance novels always described their heroes. Dashing, dark, handsome, and roguish. He should probably look up what that word means.  
  
The guy let out a deep breath. “Coffee sounds great. Skyhold isn’t too far.”   
  
Carver nodded and followed the guy outside, both walking towards the independent coffee shop known for its dirty furniture and lack of A/C or heating. “By the way, my name’s Carver.”  
  
The guy smiled, and Carver felt his belly spike with excitement. “I’m Felix. Thanks for talking to me today, Carver.”  
  
Carver grinned back, showing all his teeth. “Anytime, Felix.”


	5. this week’s live model is extremely attractive and i don’t know what to do with myself”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “this week’s live model is extremely attractive and i don’t know what to do with myself”

This wasn’t usually so hard. _Difficult_! This wasn’t usually so difficult. Carver felt sweat bead on his temple under the hot lamp poised above him. It was meant to enhance the shadows on his body, give the art students extra elements to work with as they sketched, but it just made Carver sweaty and uncomfortable. Especially now, when his blood was already running hot.  
  
He had done this a few times before. It was easy work, $25 for two hours of posing naked for some students in the art department. They were usually pretty professional about it, or at least no one had ever laughed or anything. Not to his face.   
  
But he’d never seen _this_ guy at one of the classes before. Carver had to really focus today to keep from staring slack-jawed. He assumed the stern art teacher Solas wouldn’t appreciate his blank expression showing up in 15 student sketches.   
  
So Carver kept his eyes on the severe instructor rather than the Hot Guy sitting at his two o’clock. He had short cropped hair and the shadow of a dark beard, glinting sharp eyes behind his round glasses, great cheekbones, full red lips, a perky little ass—   
  
Carver gritted his teeth as he felt his heart speed up. His blood raced beneath his skin, and the guy bit his lower lip, sucked it into his mouth. Oh no. He was— Carver focused on his breathing, trying to even it out and will himself calm. He was good, he was fine, _he was not going to get a boner in front of all these students_.  
  
He could do this. The art teacher was looking at him funny, and Carver prayed to the Maker, to Andraste, to Merrill’s weird gods, that he not notice what was happening. Solas seemed more interested in watching what the students were doing, occasionally leaning over them to point at their sketchbook, rather than stare at Carver. It was the small blessings in life, Carver told himself.  
  
One of the girls sitting beside the Hot Guy smirked at Carver knowingly. He swallowed nervously, watched the girl snicker to herself before turning to Hot Guy and whispering something. By the blush on his face, it was probably something lewd, and Carver watched the pink creep down his neck into the collar of his shirt. He wondered how far down the blush went, and what it would take to—   
  
“Carver,” Solas said, and Carver jumped out of his skin at the man’s voice. He looked over, knowing the terror was visible in his eyes, but Solas simply said. “Please switch positions now.”  
  
Carver nodded and moved from his standing position to sit on the stool in the “thinker” position with one elbow on a knee, trying to block as much of his half-hard erection as possible.   
  
After ten more minutes, Solas called an end to class. Carver released a deep sigh of relief, and scrambled to get his clothes back on. Most of the students filed out, but Hot Guy and his Blonde Friend stayed behind. Hot Guy was still blushing a bright, adorable red and Blonde Friend seemed to be teasing him mercilessly.   
  
Carver dragged his gaze away to where Solas waited with a handshake and his paycheck. “Thanks, Prof.”  
  
Solas dipped his head politely. “Next time we will have to work on our control, I believe. Thank you, Hawke.”   
  
Carver smacked himself in the face and kept his embarrassed groan inside. Of course the guy noticed, he had eyes everywhere. Thankfully, Solas said nothing else and went back to his office to finish for the day.  
  
“So, Zoolander, I think you and my friend have somethin in common.” Blonde Friend was looking up at him with a squint.   
  
“What’s that?”  
  
She grinned and Carver knew in the split second before she spoke that it would be something evil. “You both got chubbies in the middle of class, didn’cha.” She laughed and pranced out of the room, leaving Carver standing, his ‘chubby’ reappearing, and Hot Guy covering his own face where he sat. Carver noticed his sketchbook where it sat across his knees, hiding his own groin. Huh.  
  
“I am so sorry,” he heard from behind muffled fingers. “Sera is… a bit much.”   
  
Carver laughed. “She seems like it, yeah.” Hot Guy shifted on his stool, still unwilling to move and reveal himself. “I, um. Didn’t notice. For the record. Before she said something.” Hot Guy turned a deeper shade of red. “But, I, um. I don’t mind? No one’s ever… well. Done that in a class with me before, so. D’you want to get coffee?”  
  
Carver watched Hot Guy’s throat work as he swallowed nervously. Carver’s own erection immediately grew, and he tried to cover himself. He did not succeed, if Hot Guy’s gaze was anything to go by, but the man looked less like he would throw himself off the roof of the art building. “That sounds good.” He scribbled on his sketch pad before tearing a corner of his paper off, and he handed it to Carver.   
  
_555-634-6345_  
 _Felix_  
  
Carver cleared his throat. “I’m just going to, um. Yeah. I’ll call you, later. Today, probably. Okay. Bye.” And with that, he scrambled out of the art room to go have a wank in the bathroom.


	6. we always pass each other on our way to our respective classes and...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “we always pass each other on our way to our respective classes and at first we would just nod but after a couple of weeks we’d nod and smile and eventually the nodding and smiling morphed into an elaborate secret handshake thing and now the semester’s almost over and I don’t even know your name??” college AU

The first time Felix noticed the guy, Felix was overwhelmingly embarrassed. He had been concentrating on conjugating Spanish verbs in his head and completely missed where the sidewalk jutted up and out. All of his books and papers flew out of his hands and scattered on the pavement, leaving Felix red-faced and out of breath. He was already running late, and scrambled to pick everything up.  
  
Another pair of hands appeared in his line of vision and started helping him. When Felix looked up, the bright blue eyes and strong jaw in the face of his rescuer stopped him short. The man was drop dead gorgeous, with a boyish smile and said eyes he wanted to just drown in.  
  
“Thanks,” he said breathlessly.  
  
“No problem,” the guy said.  
  
And Felix ran away. He was late to class and flustered by how attractive his savior was, obviously not thinking clearly. When he sat down in the classroom he immediately put his face down on the desk and groaned. He really should have asked for the guy’s number, or at least said something suave and witty.  
  
A week later, Felix saw That Guy, but this time he was rushing along the sidewalk, sidestepping people with a grace Felix hadn’t expected. Felix lifted his hand in greeting, and the other man smiled before ducking his head and powering on. The flutter in his belly meant nothing, or at least Felix told himself.  
  
From there, Felix must have seen the guy at least twice a week, usually going to or from Spanish, but occasionally in the union or near the math building. Every time they passed each other, Felix waved or nodded or said something quick like “hey, what’s up,” and whenever That Guy responded in kind, Felix felt his belly fill with butterflies.  
  
Dorian teased him endlessly about That Guy. “Why don’t you just talk to him?” Felix made the mistake of telling Dorian about him directly after it happened, still flush with shame and awkwardness. Felix chalked it up to another Terrible Choice.  
  
Felix snorted. “It’s not that easy. He’s always rushing, or I am, or sometimes he walks with this pretty girl so I don’t really want to interrupt, or—“  
  
“Excuses, excuses,” Dorian interrupted, and pinched Felix in the arm. “Just say, ‘look, I think you are incredibly hot and buff and I want to have lots of sex and babies.’ It’s not that hard.”  
  
Felix rolled his eyes and felt the flush run up his neck. “Just because Bull is easy like that doesn’t mean everyone is.”  
  
The nodding and smiling turned into a high-five in late October, which became a handshake, then in November a more complicated handshake that involved a fistbump, a slide, and slapping each other on the shoulder. They still had yet to exchange anything more than a “hello,” and Felix wanted to slap himself every time.  
  
Unfortunately, Felix knew he was running out of time. With only two weeks left in the semester, Felix’s opportunities to talk to That Guy were quickly running out. Felix bolstered his courage and decided there was nothing to lose, since he’d probably never see That Guy again.  
  
Felix sat on a bench near the spot where they usually saw each other, holding two coffees. His leg jiggled nervously and he realized belatedly that extra caffeine was probably a terrible idea.  
  
Finally, That Guy appeared. His short hair was windswept, as if he had just left a beach modeling photoshoot, and he wore a turtleneck that clung to all of the muscles in his shoulders and biceps. Felix swallowed and squirmed. That Guy looked around, scanning the area with his blue, blue eyes, until they landed on Felix, and Felix felt his belly do a somersalt at the way his face lit up. That Guy walked toward him, and Felix stood.  
  
He held out a coffee and immediately lost all control of his mouth. “Hey, so, we always pass each other and now we have this handshake thing and now the semester’s almost over and I don’t even know your name?”  
  
That Guy blinked, eyes wide and mouth half-open. “I, uh. I’m Carver.” He reached out to take the coffee, and when their fingers touched, a shiver ran across his skin like he had touched a piece of charged metal.  
  
“I’m Felix.” Carver smiled, and Felix felt warmth spreading through his chest. “I have to get to class, but I wrote my number on the cup. So, call me?”  
  
Carver looked at the cup in his hand and nodded. “Right, yeah. I will.”  
  
They stared at each other for another moment, neither willing to end the moment. Felix held his hand out for their regular secret handshake, and when Carver took it, Felix felt that jolt again. As he walked to his class, he turned back for a second to see Carver still standing in the same spot, looking thunderstruck. Felix smiled to himself all the way to class.


	7. passive aggressive sticky note war

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m writing my thesis and somebody keeps leaving crumbs and shit on my carrel so the passive-aggressive sticky note war begins until one day i finally catch you in the act and it turns out you’re really attractive” College AU

Felix slammed his books down on the desk and stifled an angry shout.  
  
Crumbs scattered across the desktop like someone had eaten the world’s crustiest granola bar. _Again_.  
  
Every Tuesday and Friday after his office hours, Felix made a point to use the library carrel for dissertation research. For the past two weeks, the desk met him with an awful mess of crumbs, plastic wrappers, and empty bottles. Felix wasn’t normally one to freak out at the smallest sight of dirt, but this crossed a line.    
  
Felix would not stand for this any longer! He pulled out a stack of his yellow sticky notes and scribbled out a message.  
  
_Please clean up after yourself if you bring food into the carrels! The sign says NO FOOD OR DRINK but if you insist_  
A second sticky note: _CLEAN IT UP._  
  
Felix stuck both notes to the desk for the carrel’s other occupant to find. He crossed his arms feeling viciously accomplished for doing so little. He rolled his cart over and started pulling the books he would need for that day’s research.  
  
On Friday, Felix hummed to himself as he unlocked the carrel door, thoughts preoccupied by his advisor’s notes on his last dissertation draft, and he squeezed into the small space.  
  
This time, the crumbs were accompanied by a new sticky note. It was green and read:  
  
_lol nope_  
_deal with it_  
_;)_  
  
Felix saw red. He snatched up the note and crumpled it in a fist. He swept his arm across the desk to rid it of the infernal crumbs and threw the paper in the garbage can with more force than was necessary.  
  
His books ‘thumped’ as they hit the desk and Felix rummaged through his belongings until he found his own sticky notes again.  
  
_We share this space for the semester, so PLEASE be considerate!!_  
  
Over the next week, the following notes were exchanged:  
  
_I will when you leave your books on YOUR cart not on the desk_  
  
  
_Do you want ants? This is how you get ants!!_  
[Small drawing of an angry ant]  
  
  
_yep I love ants, bring them on_  
[Drawing of an ant eating a cookie]  
  
  
_I don’t think the librarians will appreciate the ants as much!! I will tell them you are eating cookies in here! Please stop!!!!_  
  
  
_don’t be a snitch_  
_untwist your panties_  
  
  
_Aluminum cans are also not allowed in the library! Do not drink in here!_  
  
  
_do you need a ladder so you can get off my back_  
[Drawing of a stick figure on a ladder with an arrow pointing to him that says “UPTIGHT”]  
  
  
  
After three weeks of back and forth passive aggressive notes, Felix was done. He was beyond pissed, and he was going to end this. He sat at a round table with a direct view of the door to his study carrel. For the last six hours, he had been sitting here waiting for the Mystery Messy Eater to enter the carrel. His plan was to ambush the Sticky Note Jerk and confront them about their disgusting habits, and hopefully talk them into eating elsewhere.  
  
Also, procrastinating. Because his dissertation wasn’t going anywhere for as long as he stressed about the state of his study space.  
  
So here he sat, angrily Facebooking and generally wasting time.  
  
Finally — finally! — someone walked up to the carrel and unlocked the door. Felix scrambled to his feet and chased to follow them before the door closed. “Hey, you!” he shouted, earning himself a ‘shushing’ from the librarian on duty.  
  
The Carrel Crumber turned and Felix was struck dumb. _Maker’s ass,_ he was _gorgeous_. He looked like a hot lumberjack, with a red and black striped flannel shirt, his thick black beard, Timberland boots, and a built physique. Felix had to tilt his head back a little to see all the way up to the guy’s face, and the guy’s blue eyes crinkled at the corners.  
  
The guy raised his eyebrows. “Yeah?” He had a half-smile and Felix wanted to just melt. A crinkling noise caught his attention, and Felix noticed the plastic baggie of cookies dwarfed by the man’s giant hands. Felix’s ire came back in full force.  
  
“You! You’ve been eating in the carrel!”  
  
The guy’s jaw dropped. “You’re the tightass who’s been leaving all those notes?”  
  
Felix bristled at the name and straightened his shoulders. He crossed his arms. “Yes, _I_ left all those notes, because _you_ are inconsiderate and disgusting.”  
  
The guy’s face closed off. “Look, if it’s such a problem, go ask for another carrel. It’s not that hard.”  
  
Felix wanted to stomp his foot, but he was an adult. “You’re the one who should move, I can go and tell the librarians. There’s a strict policy here, especially in the carrels, since the janitorial staff don’t clean in them.”  
  
The guy’s face twisted in a scowl and Felix felt his heart flip a little. Somehow it was still dreadfully attractive, even if it infuriated Felix at the same time. “Fine. If you’re going to be like that, I’ll go ask for a transfer.” He started to move off, but Felix caught his sleeve.  
  
“Wait a moment, I just… You don’t have to leave entirely. Can you just please eat your cookies or whatever outside? Not in the carrel? That’s all I ask.”  
  
The guy stared at him solemnly for a moment, as if measuring something in him, and Felix released his sleeve like it was on fire. He shifted on his feet.  
  
Finally, the guy nodded. “Alright, I can do that. Just, don’t leave any more stupid notes, yeah? They make me want to do exactly the opposite of whatever you write on them.” One of his enormous hands reached up to rub the back of his neck.  
  
Felix nodded. “I can do that. I’m sorry if I was acting like a prick, I can’t focus with a messy work station. It’s been seriously eating into my dissertation time.” He looked up at the guy through his lashes and bit his lower lip. “I’m Felix, by the way.”  
  
A slow smile spread over the guy’s face, and Felix liked the way it was a little bit dangerous. “I’m Carver. Good to meet you.” He held out his hand and Felix shook it, trailing his fingers over Carver’s wrist as he let go. “Are you studying right now? You weren’t using the carrel, so…”  
  
Felix shook his head and his cheeks heated. “Uh, no. I was waiting for you, actually. I wanted to give you a piece of my mind.”  
  
Carver smirked, and Felix felt a thrill rush through his belly. “A piece of your mind, hmm?” Carver’s eyes darted to Felix’s lips and Felix grinned. “Do you want to go get coffee?”  
  
“Yes, absolutely. Coffee. Let’s do that.” Felix grinned and gestured over his shoulder. “Let me just grab the rest of my stuff.”  
  
The next day, Felix found a sticky note left on the desk, not a crumb in sight.  
  
_I promise I clean up nice. Dinner Saturday?_  
  
Unlike every other note, Felix carefully placed this one in his binder to keep.


	8. a friend of a friend of a friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Person A needs a favor and apparently Person B is the guy who knows a guy’s cousin’s brother’s best friend’s in-law’s recommendation and they tracked down a lot of people to get this favor so please tell me you can do this for me

“Are you Felix?”   
  
Felix looked up at the sound of his name, into the face of an uncomfortable looking young man. Felix had just been enjoying his sandwich, eating in the student union and reading a book, enjoying the sunshine as winter receded.   
  
“Yes, can I help you?” He set his sandwich down on its plastic wrapper to take a better look at the man. He had dark hair,  long limbs that didn’t seem to stay still for longer than a few seconds at a time, and a few dark tattoos peeked out from underneath his shirt sleeves.   
  
The guy shifted on his feet. “So, uh. I heard from someone that you know ancient Tevene.”  
  
Felix blinked. Considering most Marchers’ feelings towards Tevinters, he didn’t exactly publicize that skill. “Where exactly did you hear that?”   
  
The guy’s eyes rolled to the left as he thought, and he started ticking off names on his fingers. “From my brother, whose girlfriend Merrill used to date this girl Isabela, who is hooking up with this guy Zevran, who used to smoke weed with this girl Solona, who is dating Alistair, who’s in ROTC with Blackwall, who drinks all the time with Sera, who is best friends with The Iron Bull, who is dating a guy named Dorian, who said you’re the guy.”   
  
Felix felt exhausted just from listening to that list. “Uh, okay. What can I help you with?”   
  
The guy held out a well-worn sheet of paper. “I got this in the mail, and from all I can tell, it has my name on it and looks official.”  
  
Felix hesitantly took the paper from the man’s hand. He scanned over it, and bit down on his cheek to keep a straight face. This poor guy seemed to be stressing over nothing. “It’s… it’s a scam letter. It says you’ve won 50,000 gold sovereigns but you need to send them 1,000 to open it.”  
  
The guy’s face crumpled as he took back the paper. “Oh, bummer.”  
  
“What were you hoping it was?”  
  
The guy’s shoulders fell as he shrugged. “I just, have a friend who went to Tevinter a while ago, haven’t heard from him in a while. I was hoping…. But he doesn’t write ancient Tevene anyway so…” The guy bit his lip, and his sad pout enhanced his wide lips, and Felix had an image of sucking that lip into his own mouth flash through his brain. “Sorry to bug you, man. Thanks for your help.”  
  
“Not a problem,” Felix said. “If you ever need help with any other ancient Tevene things, just let me know.”  
  
The guy looked up and stopped, as if startled into just seeing Felix for the first time. “Uh, yeah. ‘Course. Um, my name’s Carver. Probably should have led with that.”  
  
Felix smiled. “That would have been nice, but better late than never, I suppose. So, since you’re probably not going to get rich quick anytime soon, can I buy you a coffee?”   
  
Carver blinked at him. Somehow even his confusion was cute. The tension that built in the silence dissipated with Carver’s smile. “Yeah, that sounds good. Since you’re a friend of a friend.”


	9. the picture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> earlgreyer1 asked me to write a fic based on [this picture](http://kaciart.tumblr.com/post/138113151763), so I wrote this

Felix balked at the request. “You want me to do what?”  
  
The photographer’s unforgiving gaze chilled him to the bone. “I want you to kneel behind him, reach between his legs, and cover his penis with your hand.” If she wasn’t so drop dead serious about it, Felix may have ignored her completely. She wasn’t called the Iron Lady for nothing.  
  
Felix felt hysterical laughter bubbling in his chest, but managed to keep it down. This was so far from what he expected today to be like. He had only come to visit Carver on the set, to bring him a coffee and maybe fool around a little during Carver’s downtime. To be part of the photoshoot… he was not prepared for this.  
  
Carver, dressed in a fluffy white bathrobe and flip flops, gave him a sympathetic shrug. He was always gorgeous, but with his hair artfully tousled, eyeliner-darkened lids, and some shiny gloss on his delectable lips, Felix felt warmth pool in his chest. He had never seen Carver like this in person; they had only been dating for a few weeks. After their second date, when Carver mentioned he was a model, Felix found every magazine that ever featured him and bought copies from the newsstand or eBay. None of that prepared him to see Carver looking quite so oiled up and delicious in person.  
  
“You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.” Carver reached up with one manicured hand to rub the back of his neck. Felix’s anxiety in his chest melted a little at the nervous gesture, and it made him feel better to know Carver wasn’t entirely comfortable with Vivienne’s request either. “Your face won’t be in it, so no one will know it’s you unless you tell them. But, I’d like you to.” Carver’s cheeks grew pink and the last of Felix’s resistance dissipated.  
  
He sighed, feeling the weight of dread and hope press down upon his shoulders. “Alright, Carver. For you.” He turned to Vivienne. “Where do you want me?”  
  
She turned away with a regal gesture of her arm, as if unconcerned with his acquiescence and a foreknowledge that he could not say no to her.  
  
Felix knelt on the white plastic that draped from the ceiling to cover the floor. The bright lights burned on his skin, and he shaded his eyes for a moment to look at the set up pointed at him. The nerves fluttered in his belly again, and he started to second-guess himself.  
  
As soon as Carver stepped forward, everything in him calmed. His smile radiated reassurance, and Felix thought maybe this wasn’t a terrible idea. Then, Carver dropped his bathrobe and walked into the lights.  
  
A giggle burst from Felix at the ‘sock’ hanging from Carver’s cock. “What in the world is that?”  
  
Carver rolled his eyes. “It’s called a merkin. So I can look naked but not actually be naked.”  
  
Felix raised an eyebrow and let his eyes drag up and down Carver’s body. “This doesn’t count as naked?” The merkin was the only stitch on him, revealing a dusting of dark hair across his gleaming pecs, tight abs, and tree-trunk thighs.  
  
“Nope,” Carver said with a pop. He came to stand in front of Felix, and bent forward to brush a kiss against his lips. “Thanks for doing this. I know it’s kind of weird, but, I think it’ll be a really good picture.” His hands were warm against Felix’s face, and Felix couldn’t help leaning in to press his own lips to Carver’s wrist. Felix felt his face burn once again at the reminder of what was happening around him, but a goofy smile covered his face.  
  
Vivienne began snapping out orders and Carver dutifully hit his mark. Felix knelt behind him and pressed his face into Carver’s lower back. He mouthed at the dimples above his cheeks and felt Carver give a little giggle above him. Felix reached up when Vivienne called his name, and tried not to think too hard about the situation.  
  
When he looked at the photos on the monitor afterwards, he felt breathless. The contrast between Carver’s pale, gleaming hips and Felix’s sepia brown hand sent a bolt of lust directly to his belly. He stood open mouthed before the screen, hardly believing this was real life. Carver’s arm wrapped around his shoulder, and Carver dropped a kiss into his hair.  
  
“Hot, right?” The warm breath on his ear and the whispered words sent a full body shiver through Felix.  
  
“I, uh. I didn’t think it would be, but. Um. Do you have a trailer?” Felix turned to Carver, trying to shield his lower body from the rest of the crew. “Somewhere… private?”  
  
Carver smirked and brushed a soft kiss against his lips. “I do. Let’s go find it.”


	10. … leaving hickeys on the other’s neck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: … leaving hickeys on the other’s neck

Carver rolled onto his back, heart racing and chests gasping for air. Felix laced their fingers together as they came down, side-by-side and staring at the ceiling. His ears rang with the rush of blood and panting breaths.   
  
“Damn, Fee…”   
  
Felix chuckled beside him. His thumb rubbed gentle circles into the back of Carver’s hand, and Carver squeezed back. Maybe Felix was some kind of sex god. That was the only explanation of how every orgasm made his brain explode every single time. How Carver had three orgasms in the span of a few hours, and how his chest swelled and tightened at the same time when he looked at him or touched him or made him come.  
  
After a couple minutes, Carver brought their linked hands to his mouth to press a kiss to Felix’s wrist. He disentangled them and rolled off the bed, padding to the bathroom on still-wobbly legs.   
  
He flipped on the light and started running the water, idly dipping his fingers in to test for when it would be warm enough to soak a washcloth. He glanced up into the mirror and did a double take.  
  
His neck was a brutal mess. A dark collection of hickeys covered him from collarbone to ear, across his neck and upper chest like a grotesque necklace, instead of diamonds dripping with bruises and love bites.  
  
“Felix, what the fuck! I look like I got mauled by a bear!” Carver called into the bedroom. He pressed his finger into a bigger one right on his pulse point and winced. “Garrett is never going to let me live this down,” he mumbled.  
  
Felix appeared in the mirror behind him, blocked from mouth down by Carver’s shoulder. Felix pressed a kiss into his shoulder blade and wrapped his arms around Carver’s waist, smoothing his hands across the muscles in his belly and making them jump. “I think you look lovely, dear. Like you belong to me.” Carver felt the pinch of teeth in his shoulder and it sent a bolt of lust directly to his cock.  
  
Carver groaned as his dick tried valiantly to revive. “Fee, you know I love you, but this is…” He ran his hand over his neck again. The glint in Felix’s eye blazed with possessive desire and Carver swallowed hard. “…Really hot.”  
  
Felix smiled into the skin of Carver’s shoulder, and immediately started sucking a new hickey into the spot. Carver fell forward onto the sink, bracing himself with his palms flat on the counter. Felix reached around to shut off the water that Carver forgot still ran. Felix’s hand returned, this time to Carver’s cock, gently stroking him back to hardness, the other pulled his hips back to grind against Felix’s.   
  
“Again, Fee? I can’t… this isn’t… oh Maker,” he moaned and felt Felix’s chuckle where they were pressed back to chest. How was this even possible? Carver didn’t think he’d ever come four times in such a short period before, and the only answer was Felix the sex god.   
  
The hand that previously stroked across his belly reached out to the lotion on the counter, squirted some into his hand, and then both Felix’s hands were hot on Carver’s cock.  
  
“That’s right babe, I’m a sex god, and you’re my thrall.” Carver’s eyes slipped shut as Felix’s hands stroked over him. One held the root with a firm grip and the other traced around the head of his cock, swirling up to the slit and back down where the head met the shaft. “These marks show everyone you’re mine, that you worship my cock, don’t you? How much you love me.” Carver felt his cock throb in time with his heartbeat, and each successive hickey Felix sucked into his back brought him that much closer to the brink of his orgasm.  
  
One hand moved from his hips up along his stomach, dipped into his navel, outlined his abs, threaded through the thick hair on his chest. Felix pinched a nipple and Carver cried out, his head falling backward to lean against Felix’s head. His hand kept moving up until it touched the lowest blemish, on his sternum between his collarbones. Every touch scorched Carver’s skin, made him wonder if he would burn to ash right here in the bathroom.   
  
“That’s right Carv, look at this.” Carver’s eyes flew open and he met Felix’s dark gaze in the mirror. Felix’s finger pressed into the hickey, and Carver hissed at the direct line of arousal it sent into his cock. The contrast between Felix’s brown hand, Carver’s dark hair and pale skin, and the deeper red of each bite tore another groan from his chest. “These show everyone you’re mine. That you belong to me, and no one else, yeah?”   
  
Felix’s hand sped up on his cock, squeezing and twisting, and the other moved to circle the base of his throat. “Fuck yeah, Fee, I love you, I'm yours, you’re so, nngh.” Carver’s hips jerked forward until he was coming all over the sink, striping the dark marble and Felix’s hand with his spend.   
  
He slumped, only held up by the hard counter on his thighs and Felix’s warm chest against his back.  
  
“Think you broke me, Fee,” he mumbled, and a nip his shoulder made his hips jerk one last time.   
  
“Let’s get back to bed then, love,” Felix breathed into his skin. He pressed a light kiss to the side of Carver’s neck, and they tumbled back into bed to sleep it off.


	11. Well, here I am. What were your other two wishes?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ["Well, here I am. What were your other two wishes?"](http://professionallilbrocarverhawke.tumblr.com/post/140679440192/horrible-pick-up-lines-prompt-list)

“Dorian, this isn’t going to work.”  
  
“Nonsense, just have confidence and he’ll fall right into your lap.”  
  
Felix blinked at him, concentrating as hard as he could. It was difficult after six… seven… some amount of drinks. “I dunno, this isn’t… This is silly.”  
  
Dorian rolled his eyes and pushed him away from the bar in the direction of the hot lumberjack he had made eye contact with.  
  
The guy probably wasn’t a lumberjack, but he wore flannel and a ribbed beanie, his sleeves rolled up to reveal thick muscled forearms and massive hands that looked like they could rip a phonebook in half. Dorian snapped his fingers in Felix’s face every time he caught him staring, but Felix had met the lumberjack’s gaze more than once. It seemed promising in his intoxicated state.  
  
So when Dorian shoved Felix bodily towards him with a pick up line, Felix didn’t fight too much.  
  
He stumbled across the floor and only just saved himself from face-planting into the lumberjack’s table. The guy looked up, surprise written across his face at Felix’s arrival, and his two friends seemed similarly startled. The dwarf seemed amused and the dark haired woman suspicious.  
  
“Hi, uh. I.” Felix coughed and felt his face blush bright red. “ _Well, here I am. What were your other two wishes?_ ” His voice rose at the end of the sentence higher than he intended, and he certainly didn’t mimic Dorian’s smooth tenor in quite the same way.  
  
The hot lumberjack’s eyes widened, blinked furiously, and his mouth opened slightly. The dwarf bit his lip, clearly barely containing his laughter, and the woman covered her mouth and looked away.  
  
After a moment of stunned silence, Felix wished a hole would open directly beneath him and swallow him up, never to see any human again and live with the cave dwellers and nugs. It probably only lasted three or four seconds, but Felix’s mortification made it seem like hours, nay, _days_ were passing.  
  
 “I, uh. Sorry about that. I just. I’ll be going now,” Felix blurted out quickly. He set his half-finished drink on their table and scurried towards the door. Dorian tried to ask him something on his way out, but Felix couldn’t stop to say anything, just waved a hand towards him and kept walking. He needed to escape and crawl into his bed to hide under the covers for the next year, maybe three.  
  
He burst into the cool night air and leaned against the side of the building. He put his face in his hands. “Felix, what the fuck was that,” he asked himself. He had no answer. He should have known better than to say _anything_ that worked for Dorian.  
  
“Wait!” The lumberjack skidded out of the door and barrelled toward the street. His head whipped around and when his eyes landed on Felix, Felix felt the bottom of his stomach fall into his shoes.  
  
“I’m so sorry, that was all my friend’s idea, I’ve just had too much to drink and I thought you were cute and I—“ His jaw shut with a click when the other guy came to stand before him, and he reached out to grab Felix’s hand.  
  
“Yeah, I figured. I saw him push you, and it was actually _really_ funny.” Felix tried to tug his hand away, but the guy held onto it. His grin mesmerized Felix, with how open and genuine it seemed despite how badly Felix embarrassed himself. “For the record, I think you’re cute too, and I don’t think I would have had the balls to say something like that to a stranger. So, kudos to you.”  
  
Felix wondered if his face would ever return to normal, or if he was going to be flushed and red for the rest of his life. “Yes, well. Thanks?”  
  
The guy laced their fingers together and squeezed gently. “I’m Carver. So, um. For my next two wishes, I’d like to know your name and buy you a drink.”  
  
Felix swallowed hard. “Uh, yeah. I’m Felix. And that sounds great.”  
  
Carver smiled and Felix realized he would have to actually thank Dorian for this later. Tomorrow, maybe. Hopefully after spending a night in Carver’s bed.


	12. Did you sit in a pile of sugar? Because you have a pretty sweet ass.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Did you sit in a pile of sugar? Because you have a pretty sweet ass.](http://professionallilbrocarverhawke.tumblr.com/post/140679440192/horrible-pick-up-lines-prompt-list)

“You can do it, sweet thing. Just, you know, flex a little. Smile.” Carver nodded at Isabela’s words, face screwed up in focused concentration, and took another sip of his drink. He clenched his jaw and stared straight ahead, an expression Garrett recognized from when they were young and Carver used that determination on video games rather than picking up men in bars.   
  
Garrett clapped him on the back and Isabela swatted him on the ass as he slammed the glass on the bar and stalked across the floor. Carver hadn’t even taken three steps before they burst out laughing behind him.  
  
“I can’t believe he’s doing it.” Garrett wiped a tear from his eye. He would never let Carver live this down.   
  
Carver had noticed this guy as soon as he walked in the door, like Carver was a mabari who caught the scent of a particularly tasty rabbit. His ears perked up and everything. The man was good looking enough, with short cropped hair, round glasses, a hint of stubble, and decent fashion sense. Garrett, with his arm slung around Isabela’s shoulders, couldn’t help giving Carver shit about his immediate obvious attraction.  
  
“Looks like someone caught Carver’s eye,” Isabela teased, and the immediate blush that bloomed across Carver’s face confirmed it.  
  
“Go on, baby brother, talk to him. He’s looking at you!” The guy wasn’t, but Carver didn’t need to know that. The point of coming to the bar tonight was to help Carver get over his last crush. Garrett figured that a hookup at a bar was probably a decent way to stop obsessing over the woman Carver liked falling in love with another woman instead of him.   
  
Carver shook his head. “I don’t even know what I’d say. I’m not good at talking to people, you know that.” His expression was so sad and hangdog that Garrett had to do _something_.   
  
That _something_ was buy four shots for each of them and give Carver a cheesy pick up line. Luckily, the shots plus the four drinks before them gave Carver enough liquid courage to try it.   
  
“Like this, Carver.” Garrett raised one eyebrow, dropped his jaw to outline his cheekbones, and gave Isabela the sultry bedroom eyes. “ _Did you sit in a pile of sugar? Because you have a pretty sweet ass._ ” Isabela faked a swoon, falling into his arms, and Carver rolled his eyes.   
  
“That will never work,” Carver said, but his brows knitted in a concentration that said he was actually thinking about it. After another few minutes of grumbling, Isabela and he managed to talk Carver into trying the line on the hot guy, and Garrett prepared to watch something _hilarious_ play out. It was a win-win-win.  
  
Carver made it to the table, one of those tall ones where people have to sit on stools and their feet don’t touch the floor, and leaned into the man’s space.   
  
“Oh Maker, this is going to be good,” Garrett said absentmindedly. “I wish I could frame this and put it on the wall.” Garrett realized he _could_ record this and he scrambled in his pockets to pull out his phone.   
  
When he looked back, phone successfully recording video, the guy directed a goofy smile back at Carver and his elbows were on the table, tilting him towards Carver.   
  
The other guy with the moustache at the table, presumably a friend, rolled his eyes and stuck out his jaw imitating being sick. He stood and moved to the bar, leaving them alone.   
  
Garrett’s brow creased in confusion. “Why… why does the guy still have his drink? Carver is still standing, without a drink in his face or laughter or… what’s happening?”  
  
Isabela burst into another peal of laughter. “Oh, it’s _working_ , this is great, I can’t believe it! Get it, baby Hawke!” She bounced in her chair and slapped her palms on her thighs in glee.  
  
Carver put his hand on the table palm-up, and the guy slid his own into it. Garrett’s jaw dropped.  
  
“I can’t bloody believe it either! That stupid line _worked_!”  
  
“Remember, it worked for you too, sugar pants,” Isabela reminded him with a pinch to his backside.   
  
“Yeah, but, for _Carver_.” He would have thought he was dreaming if Isabela hadn’t just pinched him. “I can’t bloody believe it.”   
  
When Carver returned to the table an hour later, he slapped a piece of paper down on the table in front of Garrett’s face. “I got his number. Thanks, bro!”   
  
Garrett did not slap the stupid grin off of Carver’s face and tried not to scowl too much.


	13. I hate it when it's sticky

“Carver, this is not what I meant when I said to take me on a romantic summer vacation.” Felix lay sprawled across the scratchy cushions of the couch in their little rented condo. Carver sighed and turned the fan up one more notch before plopping back in his spot in the direct line of the breeze. The ceiling fan turned in lazy circles above them, only emitting the most gentle breeze that did nothing to combat the heat in the room.   
  
To be honest, this wasn’t what Carver wanted out of a summer vacation either. The photos of “Seaside Heights” showed a sunny beach-front property with a pool and smiling families. He did not expect “Seaside Heights” to be in the most Maker-damned swamp of the Fallow Mire during the worst season of the year. Since they arrived, it had not stopped storming, complete with thunder, lightning, no relief from the heat, shower water that was tepid at best, and at least 200% humidity that leeched into every room. The A/C was a joke and the fans moved at a glacial pace.   
  
Carver grumbled and buried his face in Felix’s shoulder. “Nooooo,” Felix moaned. “Get off me, it’s too hot and you’re always like a damn furnace. I’m sweating enough already and you’re not helping.” Felix halfheartedly shoved at Carver’s shoulder, but Carver snuggled in further.   
  
Felix was right: it was definitely too hot to cuddle, but with no TV, no A/C, and too much lightning to go swimming in the above-ground pool outside, Carver was _bored_.   
  
He pressed a kiss below Felix’s ear. “I know something that will help.” He sucked the lobe of Felix’s ear into his mouth, worrying it gently, before sliding up to graze along the cartilage.   
  
“Carver,” Felix whined. “Not like this, I hate it when it’s sticky.” He picked at the fabric of his soaked shirt as if he needed to clarify. The humidity prevented the sweat from absorbing into the air, beading and rolling on their skin without any hope of cool relief.   
  
“Come on, Fee.” He slid his hands beneath the shirt and pulled it over Felix’s head. It got a little tangled in the dead weight of Felix’s arms, but Carver managed. “It’ll be fun.”  
  
“It’ll be hot,” Felix said with a pout. Carver pecked him on the lips before sliding down his chest to kneel between his legs.  
  
“I know, that’s the point. Didn’t you just say I’m always hot?” Felix smacked him on the shoulder and Carver giggled at his own joke.   
  
Carver nosed through the damp hair on Felix’s chest, pressing kisses to the clammy skin. “Carver, you can’t… I’m gross. This is…” His complaints tapered off when Carver sucked one nipple into his mouth. His hand rose to pinch the other one and Felix’s hips bucked up from the couch. Carver moved until his chest draped across Felix’s thighs, holding him still and allowing Carver to continue his attention on Felix’s nipples.   
  
Felix’s hands rifled through Carver’s hair, pulling thick handfuls to the edge of pain. Carver shifted to draw the other nipple between his lips, grazing it with his teeth.   
  
Carver let up with a soft bite and Felix’s cock jumped underneath him. He continued moving down, nuzzling and licking at the tender skin of Felix’s belly until he reached the waistband of Felix’s pants.   
  
Felix lifted his hips and Carver slid the fabric off. Felix’s cock bounced as it was freed and Carver had to swerve to miss getting hit in the eye. “Excited, are we? Even though it’s so _hot_ and _terrible_ and _Carver this is a bad idea_?” Carver kissed along Felix’s hips, angling to avoid where Felix wanted it most. The smell of him was pungent, more than Carver was used to because of the heat and the sweat and Carver felt his own cock grow in his jeans.   
  
Felix groaned and his hips bucked with the attention. “If you’re going to do this, then do it, don’t just te—“ He gasped as Carver swallowed him down. Carver bobbed on Felix’s cock, sucking him down until he choked just a little bit, then letting up to breathe. Sweat dripped down his temples, into his eyes, and Carver had to blink it away as he looked up at Felix’s face.  
  
Felix’s eyebrows rose almost to his hairline, his eyes wide and frenzied, cheeks flushed with lust and the sweltering heat. Carver winked before going down again, and Felix whimpered above him. Carver pulled off, stroking with both hands as he spit and drooled on Felix’s cock, and idly thought about the little tube of lube in his backpack, which unfortunately sat in the bedroom. Much too far now that he was here.   
  
Precome started dribbling down the head, and Carver lapped it up before swirling his tongue around and down, working Felix and winding him up.   
  
“C— Carv— I—“ Felix’s hands in his hair tightened more, and Carver mouthed at the shaft.  
  
“Come on, Fee, come for me, you’re right there babe, come on me,” and Felix lost it. Carver closed his eyes and angled Felix’s cock at his face. He felt the hot liquid stripe his face, across his nose and cheeks and mouth. His tongue slid out to lick where he could reach, and Felix gurgled from above him.   
  
Soft hands wiped the wetness from him, and Carver opened his eyes again. Felix looked stunned, completely shattered, and Carver felt pride slither through him, a direct line of love from his heart to lust in his cock.   
  
“Is this too sticky for you, Fee?” Felix rolled his eyes and sat up to lick across Carver’s mouth and wipe the rest of his spend from Carver’s face.   
  
“It is, you monster,” he growled. When Carver felt more or less clean, Felix pushed him back onto the carpet, fought with the button and zipper on Carver’s jeans, and let his erection out. Carver groaned as he was released from the confines of his pants, but the relief only lasted for a moment.   
  
Felix fisted him fast and rough, using only the come on his hand and accumulated sweat from their bodies, the friction bordering on painful. Not quite enough to stop. “This is disgusting,” he whispered into Carver’s hair, and Carver moaned in agreement.  
  
“Lube’s in the other room,” but Felix shook his head and continued. Carver felt like he was going to combust, like he would catch fire and scorch this hellhole of a hotel.   
  
“No, you’re going to come just like this, for teasing me, for making me all hot and gross, for just, all of it.” Felix pressed his mouth to Carver’s, tasting like himself and sweat and frustration, and Carver came. He writhed and burned and sizzled under Felix’s touch as the pleasure rushed through him.   
  
Felix caught some of Carver’s come with his hand, but he rubbed it all over Carver’s groin in retaliation.   
  
“Come on, Fee, nasty, why would you…” Felix smirked and pushed himself off the ground. Carver lay limp on his back, looking up at Felix standing over him naked.   
  
“Let’s go take a shower.” Felix held out his hand and Carver took it, levering until they stood side by side. Carver pressed a kiss to Felix’s mouth and nudged their noses together affectionately.   
  
A bolt of particularly bright lightning flashed outside the windows, and the power went out.


	14. Join me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Join Me](http://professionallilbrocarverhawke.tumblr.com/post/140748886302/drabbles-send-me-characters-and-a-prompt)

Felix sighed in relief as Lady Esmerelle took off with her daughter and a haughty sniff, leaving him blessedly alone. He had enough tonight of dealing with these matchmaking mamas and their simpering daughters, but it was much too early to escape to his club.   
  
He watched the dancers on the floor gracefully make their way through the quadrille. So far, he successfully avoided writing his name on any lady’s dance card for the evening, but he knew his luck would run out soon enough. He waited another moment before escaping into a hallway leading towards the other rooms for the ball.   
  
Felix knew there was a card game going on in one of these rooms, but he didn’t want to deal with the cigar smoke or the ‘boys club’ nonsense for the moment. As the future Duke, his presence would only mean that he would be swamped by men needing a loan or a husband for their daughter or a quick romp in the garden. Felix wanted none of that tonight.   
  
He passed the rowdy room until he came to a half-open door further down the hallway. He pushed the door open to find a wood-paneled library with bookshelves on half of the walls, a clear desk, couches surrounding a burning hearth, and a well-stocked bar.   
  
Felix poured himself two fingers of scotch and downed it before refilling his glass. He perused the bookshelves for a few moments before someone at the door drew his attention.  
  
Mr. Carver Hawke, son of former Baronet Sir Malcolm Hawke and brother of the current Dame Marian, stood in the doorway, looking flustered under Felix’s attention.  
  
“Your Lordship,” he said with a bow.   
  
“Mr. Hawke.” Felix tipped his head and Hawke seemed to relax slightly.   
  
“May I join you? I was just…” he gestured, but Felix couldn’t interpret it.  
  
“Please. These affairs can certainly get stuffy.” Hawke’s grin sent a shock through Felix, unexpectedly open and bright. It was so different after all of the masks and the secret agendas of the _ton_.   
  
Hawke strode forward, confident and brash as if he knew no other way to move, toward the drink cart. He gulped down a brandy, much in the same manner as Felix had earlier, before offering to Felix and filling his own drink again.  
  
The men stood in silence, Felix watching Hawke openly and Hawke squirming under the scrutiny. Sometimes Felix felt bad, since few people would call out a Duke for bad behavior, but Hawke seemed different somehow.   
  
The man rose to his attention during this season, when his father died and his sister ascended, sending shockwaves through the _ton_ with her refusal to marry. The Hawkes moved to the city from their country home, presumably to make marriages for Hawke and his younger sister Miss Bethany, but their older sister’s scandal left a cloud over them that kept the most prestigious matches just out of reach.  
  
Felix couldn’t fathom why someone like Hawke would have difficulty finding a bride. He was tall, attractive, and had all his own teeth. Rumors suggested his family stood on the edge of poverty after the death of his father, explaining the sudden entrance into society and need for matches sooner rather than later. Felix wished he could send some of the matchmaking mamas with designs on him towards Hawke.   
  
Felix cleared his throat. “Are you enjoying the party?”   
  
Hawke’s head jerked up, as if startled at the reminder Felix still stood beside him. “Uh, certainly, Your Grace.”   
  
Felix rolled his eyes and ignored the pang of disappointment he felt. Of course, Hawke turned out to be just another yea-sayer deferring to him because of his title. Based on the fire in his eyes and the rumors about his dealings with the shadier part of the city, Felix had hoped for more. Alas, it was not to be. “I, for one, hate these kinds of things.”  
  
Hawke’s eyebrows flew into his hairline and his jaw dropped slightly. “You… what?”  
  
Felix smirked. That was better. A genuine reaction, and not just another line in the script written by society. “All the matrons trying to throw their daughters at me, hoping one will seduce me and become a duchess someday. It’s extremely tiring.”  
  
Hawke blinked at him for a moment before guffawing. “I figured a guy like you would love it, having your pick of women. Any of them would be happy to marry you. Not like,” Hawke paused and his expression darkened. “Not like us, they turn their noses up and ignore us.”  
  
Felix nodded sympathetically. “Yes, but at least you don’t have the fake ones coming up to you, telling you everything they think you want to hear, lying through their teeth. Or trapping you in secluded rooms, hoping that you’ll damage their reputation enough to be guilted into marriage.” Felix shuddered at the memory.  
  
Hawke stifled a laugh.   
  
Felix raised an eyebrow. “I assume you heard of Lady Petrice, then.”  
  
Hawke nodded and hid his giggle by taking another drink. “I did. I’ve been on the receiving end of her, um, attentions, as well.”   
  
Felix laughed and the sound seemed to startle another chortle from Hawke. “Then you’re acquainted with her mother as well, Lady Elthina Durand?”  
  
Hawke groaned and covered his face with one hand. “Maker, don’t remind me. She ambushed me and Bethy at the de Launcet’s ball last week and it was a disaster.” Felix laughed and gestured for him to continue.   
  
They traded stories of their worst encounters with various matchmaking mamas and their wimpy or willful daughters. After an hour, they ended up sitting side by side on a couch beside the fire, comfortable and warm. Felix couldn’t remember the last time he enjoyed attending a ball quite so much.   
  
After several drinks, Hawke was much more relaxed, eyes slightly glassy but blue and focused on Felix. He sat with his elbow on the back of the couch, face in his palm and one leg drawn up onto the cushions, his body turned towards Felix. “So, d’you think you’ll get married soon?”   
  
Felix grinned at the question, how forward and unassuming it was. No one in _proper_ society would ever dare to ask him such a thing, or at least not so directly. “I don’t know. I don’t really want to, but… it’s expected of me.” He glanced into Hawke’s face, earnest and open and slightly confused.  
  
“But you could marry _anybody_. What are you waiting for?”  
  
Felix shrugged and looked at the hearth to avoid his gaze. “I had always hoped for a love match, as silly as it sounds. My parents married for the alliance, but after years together they seemed to love each other as best they could. I had hoped…” Felix trailed off and brought his glass to his lips, disappointed to find it empty. He placed it on the table beside him. He thought idly about refilling it and Hawke’s empty glass that sat beside it.  
  
Hawke shook his head vehemently. “No, it can happen. My parents loved each other, very much. And they loved us. It’s possible, you just have to find the right person.” Felix did not mention that his mother inherited the baronetcy, passing it to her husband who came from a wealthy merchant family. Marrying for love seemed much easier when one was lower in the social hierarchy. Felix doubted that he as a Duke’s heir could rely on such luck.  
  
He cleared his throat and looked back at Hawke. “I’m glad that your parents found love. I have doubts about my own ability.”  
  
Hawke’s eyebrows came together and his mouth turned down, revealing sadness at such a declaration. His eyes drifted down to Felix’s lips, and Felix felt heat rise in his chest and flush his cheeks. Felix looked away, unable to handle such open interest.   
  
He gritted his teeth and swallowed hard against the growing feelings. “It doesn’t particularly matter, anyway. My father will choose someone and I will marry. I don’t have much choice in the situation, except to say ‘not her.’” He felt Hawke shift closer on the couch beside him, and the warmth radiated from him, spreading from where his arm grazed Hawke’s chest across Felix’s body, leaving him tingly.   
  
“That’s stupid,” Hawke said vehemently, and Felix laughed. He turned back to find Hawke’s face only a few inches from his own. Felix’s mouth felt suddenly dry, and Hawke’s eyes followed his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “You’re going to be a bloody Duke, you’re handsome and rich and funny, you could have anyone you want. You could…”   
  
Felix could blame it on the scotch, or the heat from the fire in the hearth, or the sweet words in his defense. Felix leaned in to press their lips together, and his eyes slid shut. Hawke made a noise in his throat before wrapping his arms around Felix’s shoulders, tilting his head for a better angle.   
  
Fire raced through Felix’s veins, igniting him from every point of contact: his mouth, the fingertips touching the back of his neck, his own hands that moved to the inside of Hawke’s coat jacket pressing against his ribs.   
  
Hawke made a noise and shifted on the couch until he straddled Felix’s lap, his silhouette dark where it loomed above him, making Felix feel small and safe inside his arms. Felix’s hands moved to Hawke’s face, pulling him down for another kiss, tilting his chin to trail a line from his jaw to his neck, where his high collar lay. Hawke whined in his throat and it sent another jolt of lust directly to where their groins rubbed together.   
  
Felix thought about the miles of hot skin underneath Hawke’s clothes, wondered how quickly he could shed them and touch every inch of it. He started to unlace Hawke’s cravat when a noise at the door pulled his attention away.  
  
In their ardor, Felix had completely forgotten they were in a semi-public space, in library that belonged to someone else, with _the door left half-open_. Felix turned to look, and immediately felt paralyzed.  
  
Lady Elthina Durand stood with one hand covering her mouth and the other pressed to her chest in outrage.  
  
Hawke must have felt Felix freeze beneath him, and he pulled away with puffy lips and glassy eyes to follow Felix’s gaze. He immediately fell backward from Felix’s lap onto the floor, landing with a thud, and scrambled to his feet.   
  
“Oh, dear Maker!” Lady Elthina shouted before scurrying away.   
  
Felix put his face in his hands and groaned, knowing the busybody would tell every person in the ballroom within the hour. He took a deep breath before he could push himself to stand. Hawke’s face was pale and terrified. This could ruin him.   
  
“Well, that answers that question.” Felix started adjusting his clothes into propriety and willed his erection to calm down. He certainly couldn’t re-enter the ballroom in this state.  
  
“What question was that?” Hawke looked absolutely devastated, and Felix reached out to take his hand.   
  
“I suppose I am getting married soon.”


	15. You look so familiar… didn’t we take a class together? I could’ve sworn we had chemistry.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Pick-Up Line Prompt Meme](http://professionallilbrocarverhawke.tumblr.com/post/140679440192/horrible-pick-up-lines-prompt-list)

The dingy unwashed walls and the buzzing fluorescent lighting in this laundromat made Carver grit his teeth, but he ignored it and marched to the end of aisle to find an empty washer large enough to fit all of his dirty clothes.  
  
He dropped the sack to the ground and rubbed a palm over his face, preparing for the bullshit that was _Skyhold Laundromat._ The place looked like it was built in the 70’s and left to the elements. Only half of the washers worked and the dryers needed a good kick to get started. He pulled out his bag of quarters and started loading up one of the ones he knew worked.  
  
He dumped out the clothes onto a free table and started sorting. Blacks, whites, colors, delicates… What the fuck? He lifted a pair of lacy pink panties and stared at them hard before realizing they probably belonged to Bethany. He dropped them like a hot potato and wiped his hand on his shirt. _Fuck, no_. That was not something he wanted to think about.  
  
Luckily, a guy walked up to distract him from his sister’s panties. _Underwear_. Carver ran a hand through his hair as he realized the guy was actually kind of hot. His hair was shaved short, with a rough beard and he had a cute smirk.  His eyes darted to the panties Carver dropped and  he raised an eyebrow.  
  
Carver felt his cheeks flush. “They’re uh, not mine.”  
  
The guy kind of pouted and Carver felt something stir in his belly. “That’s disappointing.”  
  
Carver couldn’t breathe for a second and his mouth worked without sound. “I. What?”  
  
“So,” the guy started, looking up at Carver through his long dark eyelashes. “You look really familiar… did we take a class together?”  
  
Carver blinked. He did not say, _hell no because I would remember that face,_ and he licked his lips instead. “Uh, I don’t think so?”  
  
“Hm, ‘cause I could have sworn we had chemistry.” A smirk appeared on the guy’s face and Carver blanked out for a second.  
  
“I’ve never had chemistry, I’m a poli sci major.”  
  
The guy let out a surprised giggle and he grinned widely. Carver involuntarily smiled as well, and replayed the conversation in his head. _Shit_. He scrunched up his face as he realized his mistake. “Oh, wait. That was a line. I, uh.”  
  
The guy ducked his head and one hand came up to rub the back of his neck. “It was, but it was a really bad one, and that was really cute. I’m Felix.”  
  
Carver swallowed and after a second of staring, held out his hand to shake. “I’m Carver.”  
  
Felix’s hand was warm and soft in his own, with a firm grip and the tip of his index finger just barely brushed against Carver’s wrist, sending a thrill through him. “So, Carver, if those panties aren’t yours, whose are they?”  
  
Carver blushed and pulled his hand back hastily. “My sister’s. They shouldn’t be in here, I don’t know how they got there.”  
  
Felix’s eyebrow raised again, this time more skeptical and the look he shot Carver set his blood on fire. “That’s a shame.”  
  
Carver felt his jaw drop open again, and he busied his hands sorting his clothes out again. A dryer buzzer went off, and Felix turned to look at where the noise came from. “I think that’s me, but you should call me sometime.”  
  
Carver scrambled to pull his phone out of his jeans pocket and handed it to Felix. The man typed into it and handed it back. “Uh, yeah. I will.” Felix winked and strolled over to the line of dryers.  
  
Carver tried not to stare too obviously as Felix bent over to retrieve his dry clothes, but the way Felix winked again as he left the laundromat made him think he didn’t succeed. After his clothes were in the spin cycle, Carver let himself look at the new number in his phone again and fist-pumped the air. Maybe he would have to find some new underwear for his first date with Felix.


	16. touch me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: touch me
> 
> a sequel to [this story](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6104188/chapters/14360338) but since this is 1000% smut it's not really necessary to understand it

Carver stared at himself in the mirror, and hesitated. This was a terrible idea.  
  
But no, it wasn’t. Felix already said. Felix wasn’t going to laugh at him or be awkward. This was fine. This was safe.  
  
Carver took a deep breath and turned away from the mirror, opening the door to the bedroom.  
  
Felix lay on his back with his arms above his head wearing just his boxers. He looked so good, so perfect in Carver’s bed, on Carver’s sheets, and Carver felt his dick twitch with interest. It felt strange, trapped in the silk fabric wrapped around his hips, so unlike the cotton briefs he usually wore.  
  
Felix looked to the door when he heard it open, and Carver waited in the doorway for his reaction. A dark flush rose to Felix’s cheeks and his underwear started to tent in interest, and Carver felt a happy warmth fill his chest. And lower.   
  
“Wow, Carver, that’s…” Felix sat up and his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Uh. Wow. Unexpected.”  
  
Carver grinned and started forward towards the bed. He rested his knees against the mattress, looking down at Felix. “Do you like them? I remember you said… stuff. At the laundromat.” Carver’s hand rose to grip the back of his neck and he could feel himself blushing, rising from his chest to his neck and cheeks.   
  
Felix grinned and rose to kneel in front of Carver on the mattress. They were almost of a height like this, Carver standing and Felix kneeling, but not quite. “I remember. Are these yours, then?” His hands reached out as if to touch the panties, but he stopped right before making contact.   
  
Carver grinned and nodded. “Bought them especially for you.”  
  
Felix’s eyebrows rose and his eyes grew soft. “For me?”  
  
“Yeah, I couldn’t stop thinking about after you asked.” Carver leaned in, not touching but leaving just enough space between them so he could feel Felix’s body heat and his breath on his mouth. “I thought, if he’s so interested, maybe I should see what the fuss is.”  
  
Felix’s eyes crossed as Carver came closer, and he tilted his head, nudging their noses together. “And?”  
  
Carver stepped back abruptly and Felix swayed from his perch on the bed. He blinked rapidly at the sudden change in their positions, and he sat back on his heels to stare at Carver’s almost naked body. Carver ran his hands down his chest starting at his collarbones, drifting down across his pecs, flexing them just a little to watch Felix’s eyes go heavy-lidded and interested, before falling further to his stomach until they rested at the waistline of the silky pink panties. His fingers traced over the lace at the band that cut across the sharp V of his hips, and his cock started to fill and expand against the flimsy material.  
  
Carver kept his eyes trained on Felix while he moved, watching his pupils dilating, his adam’s apple bobbing, the way his breath quickened, his hands clenching where they lay on his thighs. His fists twitched as if Felix was only barely keeping himself from reaching out to grab at Carver, and Carver couldn’t control the shiver that ran through him and the lust coiling in his groin.  
  
“So, you like them?” Carver asked.  
  
Felix looked up at his face and blinked. “What?”  
  
Carver grinned. That was a good sign. His fingers resumed their lazy circles on the fabric, outlining the shape of his cock and rubbing over the engorged head where it peeked out above the lace. “You like these panties? I think I do. They feel so soft, rubbing against my cock.”  
  
Felix’s lips parted and his eyes returned to the garment. “Yeah?”  
  
Carver hummed in agreement. His cock tented the fabric so it jutted out away from his body and Carver ran his hand over himself. “Oh yeah. This is all you, just from your eyes, from looking at you in my bed, just like that.”  
  
Felix exhaled raggedly and one of his hands moved to cover his cock. Carver shook his head and with a whine, Felix replaced his hand on his thigh, digging the fingers into his skin to keep from touching himself any more. “No, not yet Fee.”  
  
Carver gripped his cock in one hand and pulled the panties under shaft, leaving them around his hips and his balls but giving him free access to stroke himself. He groaned and threw his head back as his hand pumped his cock, listening to Felix’s breath grow heavy and uneven. “Fee,” he moaned. “Touch me.”   
  
“Carver, come here.” Carver instinctively moved to follow Felix’s direction, and as he got close to the bed, Felix twisted and pushed him down flat on his back with his knees hanging over the side of the mattress.   
  
Felix loomed above him, eyes almost black with desire and his cock bulging obscenely from his boxers. He leaned down to give Carver a messy wet kiss, and Carver’s hands came up to run over his neck and shoulders, needing the connection.   
  
Felix leaned back and licked his lips, sending another jolt of lust through Carver’s body, before he shifted over Carver’s hips and swallowed Carver’s cock down to the root.   
  
Carver shouted and his hips jerked with the sudden action, enveloping Carver’s cock in heat and pressure and pleasure. Felix kept one hand on Carver’s chest and one at the base of Carver’s cock, fingers sliding under the silk to cup his balls. Carver let out another loud groan, and Felix swallowed around him, his throat contracting around the head of Carver’s cock.  
  
His eyes slid shut as he lost himself in the sensations. Felix’s hand was warm over his heart, his mouth hot and slick and so fucking perfect, fabric snug around his backside and hips. Carver felt himself coming closer and closer to the edge, so he squeezed Felix’s hand until the other man backed off with a wet ‘pop.’   
  
Carver opened his eyes and couldn’t help another noise at Felix’s open red mouth, dripping with saliva and precome. “Fee,” he whined.   
  
“I know, babe. Lift up your hips for me.”  
  
Felix stood from the bed and helped Carver slide the panties off, leaving them in a sopping mess on the floor. Carver shifted until he lay across the pillows and Felix knelt between his legs with a squeeze bottle of lube.   
  
Carver lifted his knees automatically to cradle Felix between his thighs. One of Felix’s hands gripped the back of his knee and the other circled his entrance. Carver threw his head back as one finger slid in easily, and after a moment another joined it. “Fee, just fucking… just…”   
  
“I know, babe,” Felix whispered. He leaned back to slick his cock and Carver took the moment to grip his knees higher, spreading himself open. He wished for a moment that he could have kept the panties on, but he doesn’t think that he could still get fucked like this and wear them. Maybe next time on hands and knees…  
  
Felix pushed in and Carver wailed. Felix’s cock was thick and searing, and Carver felt so full, so overwhelmed by Felix around and above and inside him. Felix picked up a fast rhythm, neither of them able to keep it slow and gentle. Carver’s hips rose to meet every thrust, and when Felix’s hand started stroking Carver, he lost it. Jets of white striped his chest and waves of bliss washed through him. Felix cried out as Carver tensed around him, and somewhere in the haze Carver felt Felix collapse onto him.  
  
They lay for a few minutes breathing heavily and not speaking. Carver’s legs drifted down to cradle Felix’s body between them, and one of Carver’s hands started stroking through Felix’s short hair.   
  
He felt himself drifting off when Felix spoke. “So, we’ll have to thank Isabela for helping you find those panties. Maybe she can get me a pair, too.”


	17. we’re stuck on the top of a Ferris Wheel together and i only got on next to you because i really didn’t want to wait for the next go-around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for the [otp fic prompt meme](http://professionallilbrocarverhawke.tumblr.com/post/141325604507/otp-fic-prompts)

In, one. Out, two. In, three. Out, four.  
  
Felix counted each breath as he watched the operator lazily suck on a cigarette, waiting for him to bring down the safety bar. This was going to be fine.   
  
In, five. Out, six.  
  
He could hear Dorian giggling from above him, flirting with the stranger he picked up here at the carnival. Felix would be more bitter at being abandoned if he wasn’t focusing on keeping calm. Hundreds of people rode the ferris wheel every day, and no one died. That he knew about.  
  
Just as the ferris wheel operator started to pull down the safety bar, a guy stumbled forward into the seat beside him.  He shot a crooked grin at Felix as the operator shrugged and locked the bar.  
  
Felix opened his mouth to ask what this guy thought he was doing, but the wheel lurched into motion and Felix’s stomach lurched with it. His white knuckle grip flexed on the bar, and he started counting breaths again. In, one. Out, two. In, three.  
  
The wheel moved slowly, and Felix could feel the guy beside him fidgeting, making the seat swing gently.   
  
“Can you stop?” Felix managed to say through gritted teeth. They inched upwards and Felix tried not to look down at the increasing distance between him and the ground. The Haven Fairgrounds extended below him, lit with the different rides and booths and games.   
  
“What? Oh, sorry. Didn’t realize.” The guy stilled and Felix let out a shaky breath. “Hey, are you alright? You look pale.”   
  
Felix swallowed. “I don’t like heights.” He kept his eyes on the sky, changing colors with the setting sun.   
  
“Then… why are you on a ferris wheel?” Felix heard the confusion in the stranger’s tone, but couldn’t bring himself yet to turn and look at him.   
  
“I thought I’d be with my friend, but he’s too much of a flirt. Found someone else to sit with and left me alone on a ride I hate.” Dorian was usually a good friend, but he could be so self-centered sometimes.   
  
The wheel picked up speed, sending them higher and higher until they reached the apex. The people on the ground below him looked like little ants, so far below and if the wheel fell over right now it would crash right into them all and everyone would die. Felix screwed his eyes shut and breathed. In, one. Out, two. He felt dizzy, like he would spin and fall out of the seat right there.   
  
The stranger beside him let out a breathless laugh, presumably at the sight of the carnival laid out below them. “Would it help if I talked? Distract you, or something? Or would that make it worse?”  
  
Felix thought for a second. It might help not to think about their impending deaths. “Uh, yes. Do that.”   
  
“Right, well, I’m here with my sister and her friends. She also ditched me to flirt, but she’s got a girlfriend so it’s not like I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. They all got on the wheel before me while I was throwing away my empty soda can, cause you can’t bring food on the rid, and yours was the last open one. Sorry about that, didn’t mean to intrude.” The guy’s words were a gentle wash of sound, and focusing on him did help Felix. The knot inside his chest eased slightly and some blood returned to his knuckles.   
  
“That’s.” The wheel jolted as it stopped, and Felix just barely held in a whimper. “Oh Maker. We’re going to die up here. This is it, this is the end, and all so Dorian could make out with some random person at the carnival.” His heart pounded in his chest, his breathing was too quick and uneven, he couldn’t think, it was all over.   
  
The guy grabbed his hand and pried it off the metal safety bar. He took it between his own hands, massive and warm, and gripped him tight. “You’re ok. We’re fine. I promise we’ll get back down to the ground and it will be alright. Just, yknow. Breathe.”  
  
Felix sucked in a ragged breath and blew it out. He squeezed the man’s hand and looked over at him instead of out across the fairground. The man looked genuinely concerned, eyebrows pulled together and frowning. “What’s your name?”  
  
“Felix.”  
  
“I’m Carver. Felix, I promise we’ll get down from here.”   
  
Felix nodded. Carver’s confidence helped bring his anxiety down a notch, and he took another deep breath. “Okay.”   
  
Carver rubbed his thumb in circles over Felix’s wrist and started talking about nothing in particular, just babbling about the carnival and the rides and his sisters. It helped, and as they continued to spin in lazy circles high in the air, Felix felt himself thinking less about the possibility of falling and crashing to death, and more about Carver’s warmth or his touch on Felix’s hand.  
  
Eventually, they jerked to a stop at the bottom of the wheel, and the operator opened the seat for them to get out. Carver stepped out first and, still holding Felix’s hand, helped him out as well.   
  
After they took a few steps away from the entrance, he kept Felix’s hand in his grip. Carver’s head swiveled as he looked for his companions, but Felix’s eyes remained on where their fingers laced together.   
  
Carver noticed and froze up, quickly disentangling them. “Sorry, I didn’t even realize… Are you feeling better?”   
  
Felix took a deep breath and assessed. The jitters disappeared, the knot in his chest diminished until it was manageable, and he could breathe without hitches in his lungs. “Much better.” He smiled and looked into Carver’s eyes. They were so blue, and Felix wondered how he missed it earlier. “Thank you so much, Carver. That would have been so much worse without you.”  
  
Carver grinned as pink suffused into his cheeks and he cast his eyes to the ground. His hand came up to rub the back of his neck and his toe traced circles in the dirt, making him look so young and sweet. “It was nothing. I’m glad I could help.”  
  
“Well, I’ll let you go find your sister.” Felix was reluctant to let Carver leave, as the idea of spending more time with a hot guy who was considerate enough to help him through a panic attack sounded absolutely brilliant.   
  
Carver finally looked up, his eyebrows pulling together in concern. “Are you sure? Do you know where your friend went? The one who abandoned you on the wheel?”  
  
Felix scanned the nearby crowd with a shrug. “I don’t know, he’s probably doing something unspeakable just out of sight, and honestly I don’t need that etched into my brain.” Again, he added as a mental note, definitely not thinking about other times he walked in on Dorian having sex. Felix blamed himself for being friends with an exhibitionist.  
  
“I don’t want to leave you by yourself, the carnival’s no fun like that. Do you want some cotton candy or something?”   
  
A little flutter in his belly at the offer made Felix smile. “That sounds lovely.” He gripped Carver’s hand again and the flutter grew into a full-fledged bubble of warmth at Carver’s answering grin.


	18. i had the weirdest dream about you and now i can’t stop imagining what you’d look like naked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> from the [otp fic prompt meme](http://professionallilbrocarverhawke.tumblr.com/post/141325604507/otp-fic-prompts)

Carver stood in the war room, head hanging between his shoulders as he leaned on the massive map table. The door opened behind him with squealing hinges, and footsteps echoed through the chamber.  
  
“Inquisitor?” Warden Alexius sounded apprehensive, and Carver turned to look at him. He looked different out of his Grey Warden armor, and Carver had to assume his new clothes were Tevinter. Like Dorian’s, his shoulder was bare, but it went so much further. His upper chest and half of his side peeked out behind the strappy fabric criss-crossing across his torso, leaving one dark nipple peeking out, a gold hoop glinting in the low light. A half-cape hung from the back, somehow not covering the bare skin of his shoulder, and it drew attention to the skintight pants he wore, emphazising his sculpted thighs and generous… area.   
  
Carver felt his face burn and he dragged his eyes away from Felix’s body. “Alexius. Can I help you?”  
  
Alexius walked closer until he leaned against the war table beside Carver. He traced one long finger across the surface. “I had a question for you.” He looked up at Carver through his dark eyelashes, and Carver instinctively leaned forward into his space.  
  
“What’s that?” Alexius’ eyes glittered in the low light and Carver felt hypnotized.   
  
“Do you want to taste the cheese?”  
  
Carver blinked. “What?”  
  
Alexius licked his lips and Carver’s eyes tracked the movement. “The cheese. The mabaris are waiting on it.”  
  
Suddenly, Carver lay flat on his back on the war table with Felix kneeling above him, completely naked. Carver’s hands skimmed across Felix’s chest, tracing the defined muscles and circling the gold hoops through his nipples. Felix arched his back, writhing underneath both Carver’s hands and his own. Felix’s brown hands against his pale ones made Carver’s hips jerk where Alexius pinned him down.    
  
Felix looked decadent and glorious, like ecstasy in human form. The candles flickering in the room threw his body into shadow as he moved, sinuous and seductive, and Carver couldn’t take his eyes away. Their cocks rubbed together as Felix’s hips slowly rocked forward and back, and Carver reached out to grip him—   
  
Carver awoke with a jerk. He sat up straight in his bed, breathing heavy and sweating through his sheets. He threw off the blanket and a rock hard erection greeted him. The image of Felix kneeling above him writhing in pleasure shot across his mind’s eye, and Carver groaned.   
  
He lay on his back and started stripping his cock with fast strokes, unable to think about anything else but Felix. Felix’s face twisted in pleasure, Felix’s perfect body, Felix’s tempting cock…  
  
He eventually fell back asleep, thankfully with no more interruptions in the form of sex dreams about his coworker.  
  
The next day at the war table, Carver couldn’t stop fidgeting. He tried not to act differently toward Warden Alexius, their official contact for the order, but he didn’t think he succeeded.   
  
Leliana kept shooting him these looks like she could see right into his head (Carver figured she probably could), and Josephine asked if his clothing had been laundered correctly, as too much starch could make them itch. Cullen just rolled his eyes, familiar with watching Carver squirm and tense at every little thing.   
  
Warden Alexius’s eyebrows came together in confusion only once before the serene expression returned, completely unbothered by Carver refusing to meet his eyes or scooting away when their hands brushed together when pointing at the map.  
  
He just… couldn’t stop thinking about that dream. All that golden skin, smooth and soft and stretching on for miles, the desire in dream-Felix’s eyes, writhing right over Carver’s cock—  
  
He surreptitiously adjusted his pants again to a chorus of a belabored sigh from Cullen, a slight cough from Josephine, and a silent judgmental eyebrow raise from Leliana (he could still hear it). Felix— Warden Alexius seemed cool and composed as ever, and Carver felt even worse about his dreaming mind’s lechery.   
  
As soon as the advisors agreed that they needed nothing further from him, Carver bolted. He sped through Josephine’s office and the main keep out to the training yard. Maybe he could exhaust himself into not dreaming about attractive Tevinters if he practiced hard enough.  
  
He spent the next two hours having the Iron Bull beat the shit out of him, and returned to his quarters sweaty and drained and pleasantly unburdened by thought. After a steaming hot bath and a change of clothes, he sat on the balcony and looked out to the mountains.   
  
Bethany would have loved this view.  
  
A knock interrupted him, and someone came up the steps to the main room. “Inquisitor?”  
  
Carver froze. It was the same voice, in the same tone and everything, as from his dream. He pinched his arm and felt the pain. Not dreaming. That was a good sign.  
  
He went back inside and found Alexius standing beside the couch next to the stairs.   
  
“Oh. Uh, hi. Warden Alexius. What do you want?” Alexius flinched at Carver’s words, and he realized how he sounded. “No, I didn’t mean. That wasn’t supposed to be like that. I meant, you’ve never come up here before, and. I just. Oh Maker,” he sighed and put his face in his hands, before shifting to rub the back of his neck.  
  
“That’s alright Inquisitor.” Alexius’ soft tone sounded resigned, and Carver kicked himself. “I wanted to know if… I did anything. Things were different today in the war room, and I need to know if I said something to make you uncomfortable.” He stood straight-backed with his gaze held just above Carver’s shoulder.   
  
Carver squirmed. How was he supposed to say _I had the weirdest dream about you and now I can’t stop imagining what you’d look like naked_ to someone he had to work with for the foreseeable future?  
  
“I had the weirdest dream about you and now I can’t stop imagining what you’d look like naked.” Just like that, apparently. Carver smacked himself in the forehead. “I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to say that out loud. I just, it’s been hard, I mean, shit.” He covered his face with both hands and wanted to scream in embarrassment.  
  
Alexius didn’t make a sound, and Carver peeked through his fingers. Alexius’ eyebrows were raised and his lips parted slightly, dumb surprise written across his face.   
  
Carver took a deep breath and with effort brought his arms to his sides, feeling his face burn. “I’m sorry to just drop that on you, it was unprofessional of me. I don’t want this to ruin our working relationship and I just. I’m sorry.”   
  
Alexius cleared his throat and shifted on his feet. “It’s… That’s not— It was just unexpected, that’s all. Not… unwelcome.”  
  
Carver blinked and watched a blush darken Alexius’ face. He couldn’t have heard correctly. “You… what?”   
  
He looked up to meet Carver’s eyes. “I can’t say I haven’t had similar dreams. I just didn’t think it would be reciprocated.”  
  
Carver swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Um.”  
  
“A naked dream, you said?” Alexius unstrapped his gauntlets and let them fall to the couch nearby. “Would you, perhaps, like a real demonstration? I must admit I am curious to see how the real me matches up to the me in your dreams.”  
  
Carver couldn’t speak, as all the blood in his body rushed immediately south. He nodded weakly and watched his dream come true.


	19. i’m always running late and you’re always leaving the elevator open for me and i’ve gotta properly thank you for that you’ve saved my ass countless times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for a prompt meme, so long ago I don't remember which oops (sorry)  
> i’m always running late and you’re always leaving the elevator open for me and i’ve gotta properly thank you for that you’ve saved my ass countless times
> 
> but then rachel said "Gross frat boy carver falling for intelligent elegant maths student Felix" so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

The first time, Carver wasn’t running too late. He ran for the elevator and shouted for someone to hold it out of reflex rather than desperation. It was only the second day of class, and Carver wasn’t worried.  
  
Carver shot a quick grin at the man in the elevator, eyes sliding up and down his body. The man’s clothing looked meticulous, like a casual wear model just stepped off the runway and into the dingy elevator in the Dumar Building. His shoes shined with polish, his slacks ironed with crisp lines, his collared shirt just slightly showing a toned body underneath, a blazer fitted to perfection with little snake-shaped cufflinks, and a probably-real leather briefcase in the hand not holding the doors open.   
  
Then, his face. He had chiseled cheekbones, round tortoiseshell glasses, full lips, bronze skin and grey eyes, and a stubbled beard. He was just… _gorgeous_. Carver unintentionally bit his lower lip as he looked away, not wanting to stare too much. Well, not more than he already did.   
  
“Fourth floor,” he mumbled and ran his hand through his hair, internally scolding himself for his own appearance. Carver didn’t look shabby by any means, certainly not compared to some of his frat brothers, but he felt inadequate in this tiny elevator with Mr. Amazing over there. His pink polo shirt with the popped collar, the khaki shorts, and his flip flops seemed like a great first impression for the girls in his business calc this morning, but. Now, he regretted everything.  
  
The guy pressed the button and awkward silence filled the car. When the doors opened to the fourth floor, Carver escaped as quickly as possible without running.   
  
The second time was actual desperation. It was three weeks into the semester and his teacher _hated_ him. Stannard would probably flunk him if he was late, just to be spiteful like that.   
  
He scrambled through the lobby, shouting, “Hold the elevator!” at the top of his lungs, and by some miracle, a hand shot out through the doors to keep them from closing.  
  
Carver stumbled inside and bent at the waist, holding onto his knees and panted heavily. He ran all the way from what seemed like the furthest parking garage on campus and hopefully he’d make it on time. With the way his day was going, it seemed unlikely.  
  
“Fourth floor?”   
  
Carver’s head jerked up at the words and his mouth dropped open. _Oh, shit_. It was _The Guy_ , the hot guy who looked once again impeccable and cool and once again like he stepped off the cover of a magazine. He nodded dumbly, unable to breathe or speak at all, partly from sprinting five blocks and partly from the unexpected appearance of Him.  
  
The Guy just smiled at him, pressed the button on the wall panel, and looked back at the sheaf of paper in his hand, corner of his mouth tilted slightly upward.  
  
The elevator ride was, in truth, only a few seconds long, but it felt like longer than that to Carver, hyperaware of how he was now sweating through his tank top and how stupid the backwards baseball cap on his head probably looked.   
  
The doors opened with a _ding_ , and Carver slipped out.   
  
It continued happening like that for the semester. Any day that Carver ran late or looked especially stupid, the Guy appeared there in the elevator, holding the door for him. Days that Carver actually put effort into his appearance, he was a no-show. Obviously.  
  
Carver went through the motions of the semester, going to football games, doing homework, frat stuff, drinking, the usual. But every once in a while the guy would cross his mind, especially during Stannard’s class when he should have been listening, but instead wondered where The Guy was.   
  
About halfway through the semester, it finally happened. Carver looked great, he wasn’t rushing anywhere, and the Guy was in the elevator at the same time. He seemed as surprised as Carver, if his raised eyebrows and half-smile were anything to judge by.  
  
“Fourth floor?” Even his voice was hot, smooth and deep.   
  
Carver nodded. He fidgeted with the untucked hem of his blue gingham button-down and the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms. “Uh, hey. I just wanted to say, you know. Thanks. I’m always running late and you’re always leaving the elevator open for me and I’ve gotta properly thank you for that you’ve saved my ass countless times.” Carver snapped his jaw shut to keep from rambling any more.  
  
The Guy smiled and ducked his head, raising one hand to rub the back of his neck. “It’s no problem.”   
  
“Yeah, but still.” The doors dinged and slid open to reveal the dingy hallway of the fourth floor. “Thanks. I’d probably have failed business calc if you hadn’t saved me.”  
  
The Guy’s eyebrows quirked. “Business calc, hm? Who’s your teacher?” The doors started to glide shut, so Carver reached out a hand to stop them, standing halfway in the elevator, not ready to give up on this conversation.  
  
“Stannard. She, uh. She hates me, and I think if I’m late one more time, she’ll fail me just on principle.”  
  
The Guy laughed. “That sounds like her. She can be a bit, hmm, temperamental.”  
  
Carver snorted inelegantly. “That’s a nice way of putting it.” The elevator beeped and started to shut the doors, but they bounced back after running into Carver’s body.   
  
The Guy tilted his head, examining Carver in a way that made him want to squirm and straighten up and run away all at the same time. “I’m Felix, I’m in the same department as Meredith but, well, we don’t really work together, luckily.”  
  
Carver grinned and held out his hand to shake. “I’m Carver. Maybe, you could help me, then? For calc, or… something.”   
  
Felix’s hand was warm in his, soft and somehow electric. “That sounds good. I have an office on the sixth floor, if you want to come up after your class? If you have any math questions, of course.”  
  
Carver’s grin started to hurt his cheeks. “Yeah, sounds good.” The elevator beeped at him again and Carver rolled his eyes. “I’ll be there.”  
  
He moved out from between the doors, but stayed just inside the hallway, smiling at Felix as the elevator doors finally closed. Felix didn’t look away either, and Carver fistpumped as soon as they shut for good.


	20. How DARE you and the rest of your barbarians set fire to my library?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> earlgreyer asked for basically indiana jones carver and librarian felix so... here we go  
> for the [250 starters](http://professionallilbrocarverhawke.tumblr.com/post/142287060912/250-starters-you-can-use) prompt

Carver gulped, half terrified and half aroused by the infuriated man glaring daggers at him.  
  
“Uh,” was all he managed to choke out before Felix started ranting again, but Carver lost his train of thought. Despite the absolute clusterfuck this day turned out to be, Felix still looked mesmerizing and hot. Grime and soot streaked across his face, his clothes were slightly singed, and the fire in his eyes made Carver squirm once again with fear and desire. It was a weird combination.  
  
“How DARE you and the rest of your barbarians set fire to my library?” Felix threw the burnt shell of a book to the ground with a loud thump, and went right back to shouting at Carver. Carver flinched. “I had thousands of antiques in there, from the Blessed age, the Towers age, even a few tomes from the Ancient age! And all of it, gone! Disappeared, and all that history and valuable information is lost forever!” Felix paced across the remains of the library, tugging at the ends of his hair with frantic hands.  
  
“The,” Carver started, but he had to clear his throat before he could get any more words out. “The last book I brought you, about the cult of Xebenceck. It, uh, it was cursed. It would have possessed the next person to read it, and uh. I’m sorry. I gotta admit, you’re right, my removal method was… imperfect.” He certainly hadn’t meant to set the Special Collection on fire. It was the third most likely place to find Carver on any given day, after his office in the history building and the classroom where he taught his advanced archaeology students. Setting the building ablaze wasn’t his intention, just burning the cursed tome, but it happened anyway.  
  
Felix stood perfectly still, arms folded across his chest and nostrils flaring menacingly. Carver didn’t think a person’s nose could do that but. Of course Felix would make it look erotic. Everything about the librarian was somehow menacing and attractive at this moment.  
  
“Imperfect,” Felix whispered. Carver’s shoulders tensed again, and another explosion burst from the building behind him, indicating another floor collapse, hundreds more books lost.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Carver said, but Felix just put his face in his hands.  
  
Carver looked back at the smoldering building, watching smoke plume into the air. He regretted ever finding that book, rued the day he went into the ruin and took the object back to Kirkwall with him. He should have known better, but it was such a good way to find an excuse to talk to the cute Archivist. Also, the book was shiny. Garrett would have been proud.  
  
Felix heaved a deep sigh, and Carver looked back at him with a contrite expression, trying to convey his regret and apology with furrowed brows and wide eyes. Felix ran a hand down his face and shook his head. “Unbelievable. You’re just. Unbelievable.”  
  
“I’m really sorry. I’ll never bring another cursed tome into the archives again. I promise.” He paused. “Well, I’ll try really hard.”  
  
Felix huffed, and Carver decided optimistically it was a chuckle more than a sigh of rage. “What am I going to do with you?”  
  
Carver felt a little jump in his chest, like when he found an artifact that he searched for, or when Felix gave him a happy smile for bringing a new treasure for the collection. “I have a few ideas.”  
  
Felix snorted. “Carver, you are not going to flirt with me after you burnt my library to the ground. At least wait a couple of days, alright?”  
  
Carver ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes, sir. I can wait.” Felix rolled his eyes and turned away, heading to where the Dean of Libraries stood near the fire trucks, but not before Carver caught a half-smile breaking over his face.


	21. I am a fool to own it, but I am in a fever for his/her touch.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am a fool to own it, but I am in a fever for his/her touch.
> 
> from the [250+ starters prompt meme](http://professionallilbrocarverhawke.tumblr.com/post/142287060912/250-starters-you-can-use)
> 
> this is a continuation from [the previous chapter](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6104188/chapters/14863432), where Carver is basically Indiana Jones and Felix is a harried archivist

Felix’s heart flipped over in his chest every time Carver came to the archives. It wasn’t very often, maybe two or three times per semester, but it was enough to send Felix’s thoughts spiraling.  
  
Carver always brought some artefact he found: a cursed tome, a magically preserved skull, an ancient monkey paw, and usually it ended badly for Felix. Setting the library on fire, raising an army of undead, a particularly disastrous visit from the University President that ended in three broken bones and a concussion.   
  
Yet somehow, he always looked forward to Carver’s unpredictable visits.   
  
Today, Carver carried a briefcase under his arm, and Felix felt a jolt of equal parts anticipation, desire, excitement, and dread.   
  
“So, what are you going to blow up today, Hawke?” Felix crossed his arms across his chest (completely unintentionally emphasizing the way his button down stretched across his pecs and his upper arms, of course) and raised an eyebrow.   
  
Carver ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck, a faint blush rising over his cheeks and neck. “Nothing like that, I promise. This one is totally safe.”  
  
Felix rolled his eyes. “That’s what you said about the last four objects you brought me.”  
  
Carver bit his lip. “Well, this one is totally true.” He set the briefcase on the circulation desk and popped open the locks, pulling out a sheaf of papers. He held them out to Felix who just looked at them. “Honestly. It’s maps and accounting from Orlesians in the Blessed Age. Nothing can blow up, nothing will eat you. It may lead some future explorers into a ravine where I cleared a nest of wyverns, but it should be safe enough now.” He waved the papers at Felix until he caved.   
  
Their fingers brushed as Felix took the papers, and a shiver raced down his spine. Was it magic still lacing the pages, or was it the desire he felt for Carver? No way to tell, so Felix flipped through the maps with a distracted eye. “Very well, if you say so.”  
  
Carver leaned his hip on the counter and waited.   
  
“Is there something else?” Felix set the pages down behind him to catalog later.   
  
Carver shifted from one foot to the other, nerves visible in his every movement. “I, uh. You said to wait to flirt with you. Would this be a better time?”  
  
Felix ducked his head and felt his cheeks heat. “Yes, I believe it is.”  
  
“In that case, I have my library card right here, because I’d like to check you out.”  
  
Felix pointed at the door. “That was awful. I take it back. You need to leave.”  
  
Carver laughed and that little spark reignited in Felix’s chest. “Alright, alright. I’ll try again later.” He winked as he slipped through the door, and Felix cursed his weakness for dashing Fereldens with dangerous habits.


	22. If you keep looking at me like that, we won't make it to a bed / Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so many prompts all rolled into one!
> 
> "If you keep looking at me like that, we won't make it to a bed" 
> 
> and
> 
> "Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?" “It’s not what it looks like…” "YOU DID WHAT?!"
> 
> taken from [this prompt meme](http://professionallilbrocarverhawke.tumblr.com/post/142810446877/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you)

“Junior, if you stare at those cards any harder they’re going to catch fire.”  
  
Everyone around the table laughed at Varric’s jibe, but Carver gritted his teeth to keep an embarrassing moan from falling out. He glanced quickly up and away, avoiding any direct eye contact.  
  
Felix’s hand shifted until his thumb traced the inner seam of Carver’s jeans, and for a moment, Carver stopped breathing.  
  
Isabela winked at him over her cards and Carver’s eyes darted back to his own hand, trying to ignore the firm pressure of Felix’s touch and his increasingly uncomfortable erection.  
  
Felix’s voice drifted into his consciousness, laughing and joking with the rest of their friends, but Carver couldn’t focus on what he was saying. Felix’s hand scorched through the coarse fabric of his jeans, so close to where his cock pressed against the material of his pants.  
  
Felix made a sound in his throat, and Carver looked up from where the cards blurred in front of him to Felix’s face. His eyes glittered, the dark brown deep and endless and completely wicked. They promised hours of teasing and pleasure, deep long kisses that they felt into their bones, long nights of Carver begging for release with Felix’s touch leaving trails of fire across his body. Carver could feel his eyes crossing and he tried to keep his breathing even.  
  
“Fee,” Carver growled. He leaned over til his lips brushed the soft skin of Felix’s ear. “If you keep looking at me like that, we won’t make it to a bed.”  
  
Felix snickered, like Carver’s arousal was a funny joke rather than an insistent need. “I don’t know if that would be so bad, love.”  
  
Carver groaned. “We’re not even at home. We can’t do this here,”  he said before Varric practically shouted across the table for their attention.  
  
“Eyes on the cards, hands where we can see them.” Carver simultaneously cursed and thanked Varric for his eagle eyes, as he didn’t really want to come at the table in front of all their friends. This would only be worse if his brother were in attendance, and Carver thanked the Maker for small mercies.    
  
Carver pulled away and shifted in his seat, trying to relieve the pressure on his cock, and Felix’s hand left a cold spot on Carver’s thigh when it moved to lay on the tabletop. “You’re no fun, Varric,” Felix pouted.

Finally, Carver took a deep breath and returned to the game, thinking clearly for the first time in an hour. He still did no better at the card game because he knew from the look on Felix’s face that this was far from over.

 

\--

 

Carver pulled the sheet up over himself, trying to hide any evidence as his brother opened the door, slamming it into the opposite wall with a bang.  
  
Garrett stopped in the doorway, bag still slung over his shoulder, and he blinked at Carver. “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”  
  
Carver swallowed and did not look at the door leading to the bathroom. “Uh. I can explain.”  
  
Garrett’s brows came together as he glanced around the room. Carver kept his eyes fixed to the wall just above his brother’s shoulder, knowing Garrett would at some point see the condom wrapper, the two sets of clothes shed across the floor, and the light through the crack under the bathroom door.  
  
Carver cleared his throat. “It’s not what it looks like.”  
  
Garrett’s bag hit the floor with a thump, and Carver flinched. “What the fuck, Carver.”  
  
Something knocked over in the bathroom, and Garrett’s head jerked around. His eyes practically bulged from his head. Carver scrambled to his knees, holding the sheet with one hand and reaching out with the other. “Garrett, wait—“  
  
Garrett did not wait. He took two giant steps forward and opened the bathroom door, revealing Felix with a deep red blush on his face and a towel covering his groin. “Uh, hi.”  
  
“What the fuck, Carver!” Garrett whipped around, eyes wide and that scary vein popping from his temple.   
  
“It’s not what it looks like—“ Carver started, but it was useless.  
  
“Why are you fucking in my bed! In my room! You have your own perfectly good apartment to fuck in!”  
  
“We just—“ Felix sidestepped around Garrett to pick up his clothes from the floor, and with an apologetic glance, scurried out of the room. Traitor, Carver thought without heat. “Varric kicked us out of the Wicked Grace game, because uh…” he trailed off, not wanting to say we were eye-fucking so much everyone gagged. “We got a little handsy.”  
  
Garrett’s glare made Carver feel kind of bad about getting laid in his bed, but then he remembered the time Garrett made out with Peaches in high school when the bastard knew Carver had a crush. His guilt lessened enough for him to reach over the side of the bed for his boxers, and he slid them on underneath the covers.  
  
“Well, uh, glad you’re back, it was great seeing you, anyways.” Garrett stood completely still with his hands on his hips as Carver picked up his clothes and skittered out of the room, dressing and tripping over himself in haste.  
  
Felix waited in the apartment building’s hallway, leaning against the wall with his face in his hands. He looked up with relief as Carver met him, and Carver shoved him in the shoulder. “You fucking left me!”  
  
Felix pushed off the wall and they headed downstairs to the parking lot. “Sorry if I didn’t want your brother to see me completely naked in his bed.” He groaned and shook his head. “Maker, that was terrible.”  
  
Carver slung an arm around Felix’s shoulders and drew him in. “Yeah, it was. He’ll get over it eventually. And in the meantime…” Carver leaned over to nibble at Felix’s earlobe and felt his boyfriend relax beneath him.  
  
Felix sighed, a heavy, long-suffering, world-weary breath. “I guess I can allow you to distract me in other ways from my eternal embarrassment.” He smirked and slid into the backseat of his car, beckoning Carver to follow.  


	23. Why can't you just tell me how you feel?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "To soothe my soul, "Why can't you just tell me how you feel?" It can be as angsty as you want but pleeeeease give me a happy ending? :33" 
> 
> uh, sorry rachel for lots of things
> 
>  
> 
> so carver is the inquisitor, felix is a grey warden, and marian is marian

Carver drove his greatsword deep into the tree trunk with a snarl, the hit reverberating into his arms and shoulders. He ripped it back out, leaving a gaping wedge open for only a moment before he hacked it away. A savage thrill ran through him each time he brought down his blade, the damage feeding the flames of rage in his chest. All he wanted was to destroy, to hurt, to tear everything down until he couldn’t feel any longer.  
  
The leaves on the ground behind him crunched, and Carver spun around with his sword extended ready to annihilate the threat.  
  
Felix stood there, only a foot away from the tip of his blade, arms raised up in surrender and a guarded expression on his face. “It’s just me,” he said, the hushed words loud in the quiet of the forest. The camp lay far enough that only muted sounds came through to this glade, and Carver’s breathing echoed loud in his ears.  
  
Carver lowered his sword to the ground, panting with exertion and feeling the sweat run down his temples. “What are you doing here?” The words felt like gravel in his throat, tasted like ash in his mouth. He hadn’t seen or spoken to anyone for hours, the Inquisition soldiers and companions knowing to give him a wide berth since Adamant.  
  
Felix dropped his arms to his sides and took a step forward, halting when Carver’s shoulders jumped again with tension. “I came to check on you.”  
  
Carver turned his back on Felix and made his way back to the tree, the thick trunk half hewn away and bark jagged with the blows from his weapon. “‘M fine. Don’t need you.” He started halfheartedly sparring with the tree again, more focused on the sounds behind him than his own movements.  
  
“Carver…” his name sounded like a plea, and he ignored the pang in his chest. He knew he wasn’t being fair, shutting Felix out like this, but the wound inside him still felt too raw. “Why don’t you come to bed?”  
  
He grunted with his next downswing, and the impact of his sword ran through his burning arms. “Not tired. I’ll stay out here for a while.”  
  
Felix sighed, a quiet noise not meant for Carver to hear. “Carver, please.”  
  
“I said no!” he snapped. His voice startled the both of them, but the look of shock at being the target of Carver’s anger on Felix’s face made Carver’s chest hurt, differently than the ache that settled there before. “I said I don’t need you, I don’t want to talk about it, I don’t need anything!”  
  
“This is eating you up inside, for as long as you keep it bottled up. Please, Carver, _darling_ ,” Felix’s voice broke, “why can’t you just talk to me?”  
  
“I just can’t!” He threw his sword to the ground, not caring about basic weapon safety or training, not caring about anything except making sure Felix got off his back. “I don’t want your pity or your patronizing looks! That’s all I’ve gotten for the past three days from anyone and I’m over it. I’m fine. You don’t know how this feels, no one does!”  
  
“Why don’t you tell me how it feels?”  
  
Carver wanted to throw something, to smash his fist into someone’s face, to crush and destroy and damage until the pain inside him calmed. Until his sister came back from the Void.  
  
“Please,” Felix begged. His voice broke, and something in Carver’s chest broke with it.  
  
“It’s…” He clenched his fists and his jaw, tensed every muscle in his body. “It’s fucking awful. It feels like something’s been torn out, like everything’s been ripped away. It’s this burning, this grease fire that never goes out, enflamed by every little thing. Why would she…” He blinked back the burning behind his eyes. “Both of them. Bethany did the same thing, trying to take on that bloody ogre. And then Marian just throws herself like an arsehole at the Nightmare demon, and she wouldn’t even let me do anything, just pushed me away like the meddling bitch she is!”  
  
He slammed his fist into the trunk of another tree, one that was whole and hale and Carver wanted to rip it to pieces until everything around him lay broken. Pain radiated from his knuckles, doing nothing to dim the hole where his heart should have been. He hit the tree again, this time weaker, and again, blows and strength bleeding away as grief washed over him.  
  
Felix’s voice startled him when he heard his name whispered, much closer than before. “Can I touch you?”  
  
Carver nodded from where he leaned against the tree, hands braced on the wide trunk and head drooping between his shoulders. He shook with bone-deep exhaustion borne of grief and hours of strenuous exercise. Felix’s hand brushed his shoulder blade, warm and grounding. Felix gently tugged on Carver’s shoulder until they faced each other, then drew Carver into his arms.  
  
The fight drained from him in Felix’s embrace. His face grew warm as hot tears rolled down his cheeks, and he clutched Felix’s back with tight fists. He felt more than heard Felix murmuring soft words to him as Felix swayed gently.  
  
Eventually Carver calmed, and when he pulled his face from Felix’s shoulder, his eyes puffy and nose dripping, Felix smoothed the sweaty hair away from his face. The gentle hands caressed his cheek, and Carver exhaled.  
  
“Let’s go back to camp, okay?” Carver nodded at Felix’s words, and Felix laced their fingers together to lead them back to their tent.  
  
Carver slumped onto the cot as Felix moved around the room, sending up a mage light while he lit candles, heated water for a bath, and undressed them both. The exhaustion made his thoughts sluggish and it felt like only seconds before he slid into the warm water with Felix behind him. Cocooned in Felix’s arms and the quiet of their tent, Carver let himself relax.  
  
He felt like he had been running since they left Adamant. No, that wasn’t right. Since Haven, since Kirkwall, since Lothering, since Ostagar. In every place, he watched people he loved die, sometimes directly for him or sometimes for no reason at all. Marian was one in a long line of people that were gone: to the Maker’s side or into the ground, it didn’t matter where except that they weren’t _here_. Yet Carver lived, each and every time, to become a mercenary or a Templar or the bloody Herald of Andraste. He never asked for this, and he couldn’t say he wanted it either.  
  
Marian and mother and Bethany and father…  
  
Felix’s arms tightened around his chest, and Carver let his head fall back onto Felix’s shoulder. “Where are you?” Felix whispered against his hair.  
  
Carver sighed and swallowed through the lump in his throat. “Why did she do that.” His voice sounded gruff with disuse, burned with words he didn’t want to speak. “She shouldn’t’ve done it, she should have let me kill the demon. I’d be…” _with Bethany, with our parents_. “She's... she was the Champion. It should have been me.”  
  
Felix was quiet for a few moments. “She sacrificed herself for you. She wanted better for you. Even if you didn’t always get along, she _loved_ you, and that’s what you do when you love someone.” Felix pressed a kiss just above Carver’s ear, and Carver couldn’t hold back the tears any longer.  
  
Finally, he could breathe again. His chest still felt like it was trapped in a vice, slowly crushing anything besides grief out of him, but it wasn’t as bad as before. The hot water and Felix’s arms kept eased the pain just a fraction. It was enough.  
  
“Bethany, she did the same thing.” His words were halting, as his memory took him back to that awful day outside of Lothering. “Ran in front of the darkspawn, killed a handful before… before the ogre.” Felix stayed quiet as Carver talked about his sisters. Carver never truly had a way with words, that was Marian’s skill, but Felix listened as he stumbled his way through story after story.  
  
Felix reheated the water whenever it grew too cool, and after their fingers and toes became wrinkled, he pulled Carver from the bath. Carver collapsed onto their bed, and after drying them both with a spare sheet, Felix followed him.  
  
Felix curled around him, warm and soft against Carver’s back, enveloping him in peace and safe and home. He wasn’t okay, and probably wouldn’t be for a while, but he figured that maybe, eventually, it would be.


	24. Come over here and make me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Come over here and make me” for an anon ask
> 
> also, this is spite-fluff since rachel complained about me writing nothing but angst for the past few weeks (which is true)

The glint in Felix’s eye seemed more like waving a red flag in front of a raging bull than the expression of a teasing boyfriend. Carver snorted and clenched his jaw, fighting his instinct to tackle the man to the ground.  
  
“What did you say?” Carver growled through gritted teeth.  
  
“I said,” Felix started with an infuriating smirk, “come over here and _make me_.”  
  
Carver shouldn’t have found it as hot as he did when Felix talked back, especially since he knew exactly what Felix was trying to accomplish. Carver had been antsy and brittle all day, snapping at everything Felix said, and the time had come for Felix to remove the kid gloves and push back against Carver’s temper.  
  
He put his hands on his hips and squared his shoulders. “Fee, we’re going to be late unless you start getting ready, and my mother is going to kill me. You can’t just—“ and Felix _did just_ , stripping off his shirt and leaving it on the floor before backing into their bedroom. Carver let out a strangled noise, listening to the rustling of Felix’s other clothes as he moved around, probably getting fully naked, and the images that sprung up in his mind were—  
  
“Car-ver,” Felix sang out. “We can’t leave for your mother’s house while I’m so filthy.”  
  
Carver hesitated. The challenge in Felix’s voice was transparent, and Carver’s long-ingrained need to prove himself in the face of a provocation, especially a naked hot boyfriend provocation, rose up. He knew Felix was trying to distract him from the upcoming family dinner that would likely turn into a clusterfuck, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to hold him down and fuck the shit out of him anyway.  
  
Before he could follow that train of thought any further, a pair of silk briefs flew through the open doorway and landed on his shoulder. Carver scowled and snatched them up before marching into the bedroom. Felix lay on his back, propped up on one elbow and a knee popped up, completely naked and his cock half-hard on his thigh.  
  
“Felix, just—“  
  
Felix moaned theatrically to drown out Carver’s plea, and his free hand started stroking his cock. Carver’s mouth flooded with saliva and Felix’s briefs dropped to the floor. “Fee,” he protested weakly.  
  
“Carver, we have over an hour, and your mother lives fifteen minutes away. You’re going to have to _convince me_ to get ready, and I don’t think just standing there watching is going to do it.” Felix quirked an eyebrow, before throwing his head back on an obscene groan, his neck stretching out and back arching in a gorgeous display. Carver felt desire stirring in his belly, and he sighed in defeat. He pulled his shirt over his head and strode to the bathroom, turning on the hot water taps as he removed the rest of his clothes.  
  
Felix smirked in triumph as Carver re-entered the bedroom, right until Carver lifted him in a fireman’s carry to drag him into the shower.  
 


	25. Help me, the computer’s making sad beeps again. Make it happy, please.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Help me, the computer’s making sad beeps again. Make it happy, please.
> 
> for natasha for finishing her essay, and jack for being great!

Carver slammed the mouse down onto the desk with a stifled grunt of rage. His fist clenched around the stupid plastic and only Merrill’s whispered “hey, don’t do that!” kept him from crushing it altogether.  
  
“This is the fourth bloody time this month,” he said through gritted teeth.  
  
Merrill’s blinked at him with wide sympathetic eyes from above the cubicle wall. “Are you sure you’re using the computer right? It doesn’t act like that for me.”  
  
The Blue Screen of Death stared back at him, a menacing red light blinking from the tower and an unnatural beeping coming from the speakers. It was mocking him, and Carver wanted nothing more than to take it to the parking lot and smash it open with his bare hands.  
  
“Carver.” Merrill’s stern voice drew him from his destructive daydream and he sighed.  
  
“Fine, fine. I’ll go get the IT guy.” He rose from his too-small desk chair and with a resigned slump, made his way toward the elevators.  
  
The IT office hummed with the machines and motors of a thousand cooling fans for the massive servers required to fuel a company like Kirkwall, Inc. Most employees in here kept their earbuds in and eyes down to avoid social interaction, and Carver thanked the Maker for small mercies. He didn’t have to broadcast his ineptitude with technology to all the people who were best with it.  
  
Except one. He would definitely need to tell Felix, the man assigned to his department, and Carver took a deep breath to bolster his resolve.  
  
He made it all the way to the cubicle before Felix noticed him, and something twisted in his chest at Felix’s bright grin. He took the earbuds out and clicked something on his computer before greeting Carver. “Hello again,” he said, and Carver could hear the laughter in his voice. “What happened this time?”  
  
Carver shuffled his feet and tried not to cross his arms petulantly. “My computer’s acting up.”  
  
Felix’s eyes crinkled but his mouth displayed a neutral smile. “I would assume so. Have you tried turning it off and on again?”  
  
Carver rubbed his earlobe. “Well, I did. And then it started with this scary blue screen. It’s doing this sad beeping thing, and it won’t do anything else.” Felix’s cheek indented where he was clearly biting it, trying not to laugh. Carver scowled and gave in, folding his arms across his chest. “It’s not my fault it hates me. Look, can you make it happy again?”  
  
“Of course I can make the computer happy,” Felix said. He stood and gestured for Carver to lead the way back to his desk. “Sometimes, Hawke, I don’t know how you manage to turn every computer in this building against you. It’s a talent.”  
  
Carver huffed in indignation, but Felix bumped into his shoulder gently to smooth his ruffled feathers. “Just wait, I’ll be a supervillain and mess up all your computers, and then what.”  
  
Felix laughed, and Carver rubbed the back of his neck and grinned. Maybe he could handle a computer nemesis if it gave him a reason to see Felix more often. 

**Author's Note:**

> join me on tumblr [@professionallilbrocarverhawke](http://professionallilbrocarverhawke.tumblr.com) to scream about dragon age things, or [send me](http://professionallilbrocarverhawke.tumblr.com/ask) [a prompt](http://professionallilbrocarverhawke.tumblr.com/tagged/prompt-meme)!!


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